The Prime Directive
by Princepen
Summary: Set early in the first season of TNG, Picard must question his adherence to one of the founding principles of the Federation, in order to solve a mystery that threatens the future of humankind. *Re-posting this story from a few years ago
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Trek**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **The Planet Trana IV**

Rolani huddled for warmth next to a man she had once hated. He had been her next door neighbor, and had been a vain and spiteful person. That was before the world had come down around them; before the murderers had slaughtered most of the villagers in the newly settled colony and driven the survivors into a series of caves.

"We are cursed," Rolani whispered, staring at the shadows on the wall flickering in the flames from a small fire.

"No…we are Chosen," the man said dully.

 _Chosen_ , she thought bitterly. It was a lie that had been told to her since she was a child. This was now the reality. It was a matter of time until they were discovered. And when the Brethren found them, they would all die. They would tell Rolani and the other hunted people that it was for their own good, and that they would exit this world into a better one. But Rolani did not care about another world; she just wanted to survive in this one.

* * *

 **USS Enterprise Star Date 411203.7**

The holodeck doors opened with their characteristic sigh and she hesitated before walking in. She heard him before she recognized him, clothed as he was in an all-white fencing uniform. The rhythmic shuffling of feet on the mat forward and backward was quick yet controlled. Of course she shouldn't have expected anything less than the kind of exactness which she had come to learn was integral to the personality of Captain Jean-Luc Picard.

But newly appointed Chief Medical Officer Doctor Beverly Crusher had fallen out of practice dealing with this particular personality, and so she stood there waiting, unsure of whether interrupting the captain during one of his rare extra-curricular activities was wise. She continued to stand there for a few minutes more as he sparred with a holographic opponent. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her oversized blue lab coat, and watched as he put increasingly determined efforts into each attack. She listened as his breathing quickened indicating just how much he was exerting himself with each slice of the blade, each defensive move he used to stave off defeat.

Surprisingly the repetition of it all was mesmerizing to a degree. For a few moments she even began to lose her train of thought. She had rehearsed what she had planned to say to him; one never knew whether to expect a harsh tone or just the typical chilliness he so expertly conveyed. Beverly Crusher wasn't chilly at all. In fact, she was naturally quite warm-at least when her temper had not gotten the better of her. But she could be distant if necessary. Many hardships of the personal kind had seen to that.

In addition she had learned to extend her practiced medical detachment and apply it to her interactions with difficult personalities where it was warranted. Whether Captain Picard turned out to be one of those difficult personalities Beverly would need to treat with detachment still remained to be seen. The interactions between Picard and Crusher thus far had been mixed at best, and at worst, confusing and embarrassing.

It had been just three weeks since the captain had nearly ordered her transfer from the _Enterprise_ during the Farpoint mission, and only one week since the Tsiolkovsky virus had taken over the crew and caused widespread confusion and apparent drunkenness. Before she had isolated the cure, Picard and Crusher like many other crew members had not been spared exposure to the virus or the onset of the odd symptoms. As a result of their lowered inhibitions during those few hours, they had done their best to avoid each other since—with the exception of one extremely speedy physical two days ago. The Captain had ordered one for all infected crew members after receiving his newest set of orders, and to his distress seemed to realize only after issuing the order that he too would have to undergo a physical.

Now waiting to give him the results of the crew physicals, Beverly absently tapped the toe of her boot on the deck. For some reason Picard hadn't noticed she was there yet. And then she sat down slowly on a nearby wooden bench which emitted a very realistic creaking sound, and he jumped into the air in surprise. He turned to face her so abruptly that he forgot to tell his holographic opponent to stop its attack, and it scored a hit to his shoulder. Ripping off his helmet angrily he shouted, "freeze program!" The holodeck opponent stopped in mid-swing, and Beverly had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous the computer generated swordsman looked balanced on one foot.

The Captain however, was not laughing, and she could tell already that this was not going to be easy, simply because she had interrupted him. _Oh well_ , she thought. He pulled off his gloves wordlessly and slapped them inside his helmet before placing it on a nearby bench. Straightening he placed his hands on his hips. "To what, Doctor Crusher, do I owe this," he gestured with his right hand, as though unable to come up with the correct wording before settling for "intrusion?"

Beverly took a deep breath. "You ordered me to notify you when I had examined the post-Tsiolkovsky physicals, Captain."

"So you came to holodeck six, instead of simply sending me a message," he said looking bemused. "How did you even find me?"

 _Let's see ,should I tell him Riker told me, or_ …. "I asked the computer, of course," she said as evenly as possible.

He raised his eyebrows and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Ah yes, of course." He was looking at her expectantly, now that what he considered pleasantries were out of the way.

"For the most part the crew is fit for duty, although I do have some concerns about one particular officer…which is why I thought I'd come down here to find you."

"Oh?" He took a step toward her with a growing look of concern.

She stood up from the bench. "Captain it's your cardiac implant…."

His expression immediately grew hard. "So you have concerns about my fitness for duty?" he said quickly.

 _Interesting how his concern for his crew outweighs his concern for himself? Or maybe it's something else._ "No, Captain, clearly you are very fit. I had no idea you were a fencer, in fact…."

He merely frowned at her, uninterested in her attempt at small-talk.

"It's just that your heart is showing some wear and tear. We have more improved models now, Jean-Luc." He actually flinched at that, and then put a hand on the back of his neck, looking at the floor until she finished. _So, no interruptions while exercising, don't mention his artificial heart, no calling him by his first name…I suppose I should be making a list now,_ she thought. _Whatever you do, Beverly, don't mention what happened between us last week._

"Captain," she said as gently as possible. "I simply want to inform you that within the next three years your heart may require replacement. Certainly there is no immediate concern, but I thought you should know. I have done a number of the procedures myself, and I'm happy to help any time you like."

He gave a little shrug, and looked up at her. "I appreciate the information, Doctor. Thank you," he said quietly. But his eyes were still very cold. Had she embarrassed him? Clearly he did not appreciate even the possibility of appearing vulnerable. Presently though he allowed a faint smile, perhaps just because he was aware that he appeared too distant, but she could tell he was still uncomfortable. "If you will excuse me, Doctor, I must go and review my orders for our current mission," he said walking past her toward the door.

"Captain…might I ask, what is our current mission?" she called after him.

He paused before exiting the holodeck. "It promises to be entirely routine, Doctor," he assured her before stepping into the corridor.

She watched him go. "End program," she said softly and the gym interior instantly transformed into a black and gold grid.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Commander William T. Riker was highly irritated, and more importantly he was on the verge of being bored. After giving the Captain a hard time about leading away team missions, he'd spent the last five thrilling days surveying planets for an elusive, but supposedly valuable mineral called Andurine. So far, he'd found hardly any significant deposits, but Captain Picard had assured him of the value of this assignment. _The man is punishing me with boring away team missions he would never in a million years want to lead himself_ , he thought as he strode through the ship corridors. _Years of officer training and I'm out collecting rocks._ _At least this is the last survey planet before the next mission._ "Riker to Yar," he snapped tapping his com badge.

" _Yar here_ ," came the quick reply.

"Is the uh…the mineral guy there with you?"

" _The mineralogist sir? Yes, Doctor Francis is here with me in transporter one. Ready when you are sir."_

"Acknowledged. I need to check in with Captain Picard, and then I'm on my way to meet you."

" _Aye sir."_

He nodded to an attractive ensign who smiled at him in passing and then took a deep breath. "Riker to Captain Picard."

" _Commander, weren't you scheduled for departure to Trana IV at 0800 hours?"_

When it came to making sure that orders were being followed, no one would ever accuse Picard of being shy.

Riker leaned against the computer panel and the ship's clock appeared. It was three minutes past his scheduled departure time. "Yes, sir, we've entered orbit and I just wanted to let you know we're ready to beam down."

" _Of course you are."_

At times like this Riker recalled the advice of his former captain prior to his transfer to the Enterprise. " _Picard is going to be hard on you at first. That's his way, and no one escapes early difficulty with him, Will. Just ride the storm out for a few months, gain his trust, and you will be pleasantly surprised."_

Riker was careful to keep his voice even in his reply. "Yes sir. I'll report back as soon as we're ready to beam up from the planet's surface."

" _Be safe Commander; no unnecessary risks. Picard out."_

"Right…no unnecessary risks down on the big rock expedition," Riker murmured, making steps to the transporter room.

* * *

"The Ciapathians are a highly advanced people, Counselor. And yet this is the first petition they have filed for entry into the Federation."

Counselor Troi placed her data pad down on the conference table. She had spent the last hour with Captain Picard preparing for a delegation from the planet Ciapathia to come aboard the ship. It was a rare chance for her to communicate directly with the Captain with no one else in the room. Such opportunities had been few and far between since she had joined the new crew of the _Enterprise_ , and she wasn't about to waste her chance to get to know him. "Captain, may I speak freely?"

Picard stopped tapping his fingers on the tabletop and looked up at her with a frown. "Yes, of course."

"This is the second time you have mentioned that the Ciapathians are latecomers to the Federation, despite their advances particularly in the field of medical science. Might I ask what your concerns are?"

He merely looked at her. She had already learned that his facial expressions held the key to interpreting his inner emotional state. While of course her empathic abilities could allow her to probe further, she knew that he found such things to be intrusive. So for now she approached him with caution, and as much as possible avoided direct contact with his mind. Sometimes his expressions were so deliberately unrevealing that she could tell he was guarding something very private, very dear to him. Other times, he made a point of showing the person he was speaking to that he intended to hide nothing. Usually this is when he was most passionate about a subject. He had been so when they faced trial before the Q entity, and she would never forget experiencing that introduction into the mind of her new superior officer.

Momentarily he spoke. "It seems rather odd that they would choose to enter the Federation without so much as a murmur of interest during the last century, Counselor. The question is, what do we have to offer a society that views itself as nearly perfect?"

"Protection perhaps," Troi offered.

Picard shook his head. "They have virtually no enemies that we know of."

"They are a humanoid race, so they may feel a kinship with us and the other founding races of the Federation. Or perhaps they simply want opportunities to share technology and collaborate with other advanced societies."

Picard sat back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach. "At this point, one can only postulate, Counselor. We have prepared ourselves as best we can with the information available to us," he said quietly.

She smiled inwardly. He was now prepared, and as a result, largely unconcerned about negotiations. "But you _are_ suspicious of the Ciapathians," she pressed.

He smiled thinly and leaned forward with his hands clasped in front of him on the table. "Counselor, are you attempting to read my mind?"

 _He still doesn't understand why Starfleet has assigned a ship's counselor to the Enterprise, and he may never truly trust my empathic abilities._ She smiled with genuine warmth. "Of course not, sir. But you have expressed some doubt in this regard, as we have been discussing."

He sighed and got up from his seat, smoothing out the waistband of the form-fitting uniform. He walked to the viewport and leaned on his forearm looking out at the stars. "There was another factor Command included in my orders that you weren't privy to Counselor, which I feel inclined to share with you now."

 _Oh my what a pleasant surprise…he is in a sharing mood._

He turned back to face her seriously. "As you know, the two delegations of Ciapathians coming on board are representatives of the two dominant political parties of the Ciapathian planetary council. But Premier Fon is actually the driving force behind his planet's entry into the Federation, while Representative Del has been more reticent to say the least."

Troi frowned. "So one political faction is fighting for entry into the Federation and the other is attempting to prevent it? Those are issues they should have worked out before they submitted a collective petition."

He nodded. "Hmm, that _is_ how it typically works. However, Starfleet has ordered that in this case I personally make every effort to heal the rift between these two factions so that the petition can be processed without delay."

"Someone at Command must really want the Ciapathians to enter the Federation."

He looked out the window again. "My guess is that Ciapathian medical advances will be of considerable use to the Federation."

"Have you asked Doctor Crusher her opinion on the matter, Captain?" Her eyebrows shot up involuntarily at the visceral reaction his mind threw back at her. It was a jumble of raw emotion and yet his posture didn't change as he continued to stare out the view port. Deanna quickly pushed the burst of emotion back at him, unable to interpret it in this setting, at this time.

"No," he said simply. "But perhaps I will," he said, turning back around to face her.

 _Change the subject_ , Deanna shouted at herself internally. "Now about the seating arrangements at dinner," she said.

The look on his face was priceless.

"Dinner, what dinner?"

"Dinner is customary as an ice breaker in Ciapathian society, although I am told they eat very little. But the seating arrangements may be problematic."

Picard appeared annoyed. "How so?"

"Representative Del has a large family, and traditionally they should be permitted to accompany him to dinner."

"How…large?"

"He has five wives," said Troi carefully. Picard raised his eyebrows. "And twenty-two children—"

"Oh…Counselor, there is no way in hell—"

"Captain, I would suggest a compromise—"

"No children," he said looking rather pale.

"Captain that would be a grave insult to Representative Del. Perhaps just half of Del's children could be permitted to attend the dinner."

Picard folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes briefly. "And Premier Fon? Does he happen to have an immense family as well?"

Deanna smiled. "No. Oddly enough Fon and the members of the ruling party typically have rather small families."

"How convenient for me," Picard murmured, still clearly annoyed. "Very well…let's have the hospitality staff replicate a very large table."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

Beverly Crusher's eyebrows shot up in surprised amusement. "Twenty-two kids?" She sipped her coffee and then laughed into the cup. "How many of them are teenagers I wonder? Because one is enough," she assured Troi.

"I will take your word for it Beverly," Deanna said, sipping something that smelled like hot chocolate, but didn't taste quiet right. She would have to work on these replicator programs.

" _Finally_ , someone who is willing to address me by my first name! Thank you for that," Beverly said, and clinked her coffee cup into the side of Troi's mug of hot chocolate.

"Cheers, to being on a first name basis," Deanna said.

Beverly smiled and her eyes took on an impish expression. "Deanna, I would have really loved to have seen the look on the Captain's face when you told him about that."

"It was certainly something to behold," Troi admitted. "He is still largely a mystery to me," she said, growing slightly more serious.

"Ha," Beverly said, getting up from her desk and placing the empty cup in a nearby recycler.

Troi held out her open palms. "That's it? For as long as you have known Captain Picard, I would think you would have some more insight into his personality, Beverly."

Crusher sat back down slowly, and Deanna actually felt the sensation of the emotional wall going up. Beverly gave her a weak smile. "Yes, you _would_ think so, wouldn't you?"

* * *

" _Riker to Captain Picard."_

Picard shifted in his command chair, surprised to hear from his second in command so soon. Riker and his team had only been down on Trana IV for about an hour. He tapped the armrest on his chair. "Picard here, go ahead."

" _Sir, we've found the remnants of a small abandoned village."_

Picard stood up swiftly. "That planet was not supposed to be inhabited," he said sharply.

" _Nevertheless sir…."_

Picard turned to Data at ops. "Data, why didn't our sensors pick up any technology or evidence of a city before beam down? And no life signs?"

"Sir, it is possible that the technology in the village is so basic that our sensors did not recognize it as evidence of a collective dwelling. Additionally, Commander Riker did say that the village was abandoned. It may be that there are no longer any inhabitants. However, even if there were minimal life signs, our sensors could have missed them."

"Commander, have you been seen?" Picard asked, addressing Riker again.

" _No sir, none of the inhabitants or former inhabitants are present. Data's right, the buildings here, well the dwellings seem to be made of the same material as the soil here. Some kind of clay huts, which are very low to the ground_. _No wonder our sensors missed them."_

Picard ran his palms over his head. "And no people…."

Riker hesitated. _"No sir. But…there does appear to be some organic material at various spots around us on the ground. Could be blood, sir. It's dried but impossible to tell just how old it is, Captain."_

At that moment, Picard considered calling the entire away team back up to the ship, but something made him ask, "Did you locate any Andurine deposits?"

" _Yes sir, there appears to be a large hilly area about 500 meters away that Dr. Francis believes looks promising."_

Picard nodded, still thinking quickly. "Proceed with caution. If you see any sign of sentient life, take cover, and beam back to the ship, ensuring as best you can that you are not seen. Understood?"

" _Aye sir,"_ was Riker's reply before the connection cut out.

"Captain," said Data turning from his station. "If Commander Riker has in fact found a large mineral deposit of Andurine, it could be masking life signs even down on the planet. As you know, sir, Andurine has been used to produce cloaking technology."

Picard scratched his chin. "Yes I know, Data, thank you." He tapped his communicator. "Picard to Doctor Crusher."

" _Crusher here."_

"Doctor, there has been a development on the planet's surface and we require your expertise. Please meet me in transporter three in five minutes."

" _On my way."_

* * *

"Mr. Data, you have the bridge. Mr. LaForge," Picard added walking slightly forward to address the young man at the helm.

"Yes sir?" Lt. Geordi LaForge perked up slightly but knew better than to look away from his post. They were all in a sort of probationary period, and LaForge, who had been bouncing between various positions, including the helm was feeling highly insecure lately.

"Lieutenant, I want you to coordinate our transport out from the helm. I need someone I can trust at these controls."

"Yes sir," Geordi replied professionally.

Picard paused at the turbo lift. For a moment, he considered bringing Worf along, but quickly decided against it. Additional parties beaming down only increased the possibility of his crew being noticed by the inhabitants. And if Worf went along, Picard knew he ran the risk of exposing a fledgling civilization to not one but two alien cultures.

So he stepped into the turbo lift alone. "Mr. Worf, please relieve Mr. Data at ops," Picard said as the door closed.

"Did you hear that Data?" Geordi said with a grin as the lift doors swished shut. "He _trusts_ me."

As Worf took Data's seat, the Klingon sat down and addressed Geordi without looking away from his control panel. "It will make it that much more unfortunate for _you_ if you _disappoint_ the Captain," he warned in a low voice.

Geordi turned his head quickly to fix Worf with a confident smile. "Hey, I know what I'm doing—don't worry about it," he insisted.

"It is not _I_ who should be worried," Worf said seriously as Geordi's smile faded quickly.

* * *

Picard stalked through the corridors of his ship entirely lost in his own ruminations, and oblivious to the crew members who nervously moved out of his way.

 _Damn it._ It was problematic enough that he would have to justify sending Crusher to a non-Federation planet simply because Riker had discovered evidence of dead or injured persons in the abandoned village. Of course, yes he was concerned that someone in that village might be dying and felt a duty to help them. Of course, there were more important things than scouring a planet for its natural resources. But the Enterprise hadn't been ordered there on a mission of aid, and in fact until a few minutes ago, he hadn't known there would be anyone _to_ aid.

Picard knew that if he were to follow regulations as dictated by his superiors, he was expected to continue the survey as long as it could be done without interacting with or being noticed by the pre-warp inhabitants. The Prime Directive required that Starfleet personnel not interfere with less developed species, so as to avoid disturbing their technological and social progress. But because the mineral ore the away team had been charged with locating was so important to Starfleet Picard knew the potential violation of the Prime Directive was secondary to those considerations. However, he also knew that if someone was gravely wounded down in that village, Doctor Crusher could provide aid to the individual without his or her becoming aware of their identities, and thus Captain Picard would still be acting within the confines of the Directive.

The truth was it wasn't the potential violation of the Prime Directive that was truly bothering him. It was his inability to remain objective when it came to _her_. It was completely and utterly inappropriate, but his instinct to protect Beverly Crusher had overridden his command sense; and this was a problem. If he could not set aside his feelings, not that he was quite sure what the hell these feelings meant this arrangement would simply never work. He would not be able to serve with her on this ship.

He could hardly say her name inside his own mind without a mix of feelings and emotions that had been buried for years before she reappeared in his life and on his ship just weeks ago. And he knew it was his problem, not hers to correct. He was a decisive man, and wanted to retain the appearance of being so, which is part of the reason he would not change his mind about beaming down. Riker no doubt, would make his objections known. Even as he continued to criticize himself internally he could almost hear his father's voice from all those years ago.

* * *

 _The sun passed over his face and he smiled as the warmth soaked into him despite the chilly autumn air._

 _"Where is he?"_

 _Jean-Luc's eyes snapped open at the sound of his father's baritone voice booming from inside the house._

"He's in the garden again," was his mother's reply.

 _"What is he doing out there, Yvette? He's left his brother to do all the work in the fields."_

 _"Maurice, you know your son," his mother reasoned with his father. "Jean-Luc is just busy planning his future again."_

" _His future! Without giving a damn about the rest of his family!"_

" _Oh, Maurice not this again," his mother gently chided his father._

 _Jean-Luc had managed to scramble to his feet in time to face his father as the man stormed out of the house. Jean-Luc hurriedly kicked at the sand with his shoe, trying to cover the area he had absently been drawing on._

 _His father poked him in the chest with his callused index finger. "Loafing about—basking in the sun while your brother does all of the harvesting, I see."_

 _Jean-Luc lifted his chin. "No sir."_

 _"No sir? Watch your tone, Jean… what are you doing back here boy? Daydreaming about girls, no doubt. There will be time for that later. Until then, you'll work until I tell you to stop."_

 _Eleven year old Jean-Luc made a sour face. "I don't dream about girls, Papa," he insisted._

 _"Hmm," grunted his father, bending down to stare into the sand, where the outline of his drawing still lay in the sand. "Even worse than girls. Starships again," he grumbled._

" _I was going to go back to the vines soon enough, sir," said Jean-Luc._

" _Soon enough? Everything is always on your time, boy, expecting the rest of us to take your lead." His father placed a heavy hand on his shoulder. "The grapes won't harvest themselves, Jean-Luc."_

" _Actually they will, Papa, they have robotics for that now."_

" _You and your damn technology!" His father shouted suddenly, shaking him by the shoulder. He stared his son in the eye. "You'll never have better than what we have here, do you understand me?"_

 _Jean-Luc felt the sting of tears in his eyes, but said nothing, staring at the ground. His father gripped his shoulder and he knew it was meant to instill strength in him. But he didn't feel strong, he felt misunderstood. "Are you crying? Emotion will get you nowhere. Do you think they take crying boys in Starfleet?"_

 _Jean-Luc shook his head no, and when he finally looked up to meet his father's gaze his own eyes were clear._

* * *

Picard blinked away the memory as he neared the transporter room. He hadn't thought about those moments for years. It seemed that he had forever been molding himself into the person his father had expected him to be even after he had left home for Starfleet and caused a rift in the family many years before. A rift that he had never bothered to try and heal.

And yet despite his father's stern warning all those years ago, here he was letting his emotions lead him. It was inexcusable. Later on he would be able to justify his decision by any number of well-reasoned excuses, but the reality was that he simply did not want to send her down to that planet alone. He couldn't have sent Worf or a security officer down with her for protection. Because the reality was that if anything happened to her, it would be his fault, his responsibility. And so something very personal had driven him to go down himself. There was no doubt about it; he would have to get his feelings in line. After this away mission, things would change. He rearranged his facial expression to be as neutral as possible as he stepped into transporter room three.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Doctor Crusher was already waiting, with her medical tricorder and her med kit slung over her shoulder. "What's happened?" she asked, her eyes wide but not alarmed. She was prepared, of course.

He handed her a phaser. "Riker's found a small village down on the planet. It wasn't supposed to be inhabited. He indicated that someone might have been injured there, but the village seems to have been abandoned. Specifically he's found some dried blood but was unable to determine how long ago this…event occurred. He and the away team have gone to search for a mineral deposit nearby. If we are able to ascertain how recently it occurred—"

"Well let's go then," Crusher interrupted impatiently, holstering the phaser and stepping up onto the transporter pad.

"Doctor, we need to proceed with caution," he said, holstering his own phaser before stepping up beside her. "We are dealing with a pre-warp civilization and the risk of exposure—"

She fixed him with a stunned look. "You _can't_ be serious. As far as I am concerned, Captain the Prime Directive is irrelevant where there is a duty to assist those in need!"

Picard clenched his jaw tightly. "Doctor, the Prime Directive is _never_ irrelevant. And if I didn't agree with you that we need to provide whatever help possible, I wouldn't have ordered you down to the planet in the first place."

She glared at him, and he was sure she was about to say something more, when the transporter chief spoke up in a disconcerted voice.

"Sirs? Whenever you are ready—"

"Energize!" Picard and Crusher snapped simultaneously.

* * *

 **Trana IV**

The two officers materialized amidst less than one hundred small dwellings. Riker had been right; they were constructed out of mud. Picard turned around slowly in a circle, surveying the terrain. To his relief, there were no humanoid creatures to be seen, and very little wildlife except a few birds. About 500 meters away, just as Riker had indicated, was a heavily wooded hilly area. "Riker's taken his team in that direction," he murmured.

Doctor Crusher had immediately begun surveying the ground with her eyes and tricorder. Picard kept a lookout, watching for any movement in the distance. But there was none. He thought he heard rumble in the distance, and the wind began to grow blustery, moving the trees back and forth. In the distance, the sky had darkened. A storm was coming. He glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw that a few paces away, Crusher was kneeling on the ground waving her tricorder over it slowly.

Presently he tapped his combadge. "Picard to Riker." There was no response, and when he hit his combadge again, it sputtered. _Damn._ Then, to his surprise it chirped a moment later. _"Data to Captain Picard,"_ came his second officer's perpetually unworried voice. He smiled. "Picard here…Data we've lost contact with Commander Riker. There appears to be a storm coming in, possibly causing interference."

 _"Yes, Captain sensors picked up the storm's movement just after you beamed down. I would suggest either transporting back to the Enterprise or seeking cover, sir. In anticipation of communications interference I took the liberty of remotely boosting your communicator's relay power. By using a modulated bypass -"_

"Thank you for your quick thinking, Mr. Data," he interrupted before Data got on a roll. "I will try the Commander again. Picard out."

He sighed, and nodded at Crusher who was now standing next to him. "Picard to Riker," he repeated. Static. "Picard to Riker…."

 _"Riker here—sir—-what-beamed…dangerous sir."_

Even through the static he heard the objection. Picard's brow creased with concern, although he was quietly relieved to hear Riker's voice. "Commander, you're breaking up. My guess is that between the storm and the Andurine deposits you've found, we're going to continue to have trouble communicating. Can you contact the Enterprise for beam out?"

"Captain," said Crusher, "The only animal life signs I'm able to read besides you and me are the birds in those trees over there. I'm not reading Riker's team at all."

Picard nodded. "It's the Andurine—it's a very effective cloaking material. " He hit his badge again. "Commander, you've got to bring your team out of that area so that the _Enterprise_ can get a lock on you. And you must hurry, a storm is moving in out here."

Riker's static-filled reply was quick this time. _"We have a slight problem-...Doctor Francis fell-...broke-...caves …very treacherous sir."_

Picard exchanged a worried glance with Crusher.

"Doctor Crusher is here with me…we're going to come and find you. Just stay in one place."

 _"Don't advise it-...Yar and I- ...-carry Francis-"_

"Just stay put, so we can find you," shouted Picard above the now whistling wind. The communicator cut out completely and there was an immense boom of thunder from overhead. Both officers flinched.

"What did you find?" Picard asked.

"These dwellings are actually quite old, Captain. But the blood I found—and yes it was blood from something probably humanoid in form, was fairly new. I would say that something very bad happened here in the last few days."

"And yet no one is to be found," he said.

She shook her head. "No one. Although I did find some traces of what could be a very powerful plasma weapon." He glanced at the tricorder readings over her shoulder.

"May I?" he said and she handed it to him. He took the tricorder, switched its settings and knelt down examining the ground. He looked off again into the direction of the hills where Riker was located. Placing his hand on the ground he traced a faint pattern in the loose dirt. "There are more than three sets of foot prints here, Doctor. The away team is small; just Riker, Yar and Doctor Francis." He looked up at her. "Someone else either preceded them into those caves or followed them." Suddenly there was another boom and then a splitting sound. One of the trees nearby had been struck by a wand of purple lightning, and was now in flames.

"Let's get to cover," Beverly yelled, just as the rain began to pour down in sheets.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

* * *

At an all-out run it took them just minutes to reach the wooded hilly area, but when they arrived, they were completely soaked. "Not good," Beverly gasped as Picard wiped the rain out of his own eyes.

"I haven't been in a storm like this since I was a boy," he said, blinking as water continued to stream down his face.

"You were a boy once?" Beverly remarked with a deadpan expression. In combination with her drenched face and hair, he could not help but find it amusing.

He smiled. "As odd as that may seem…yes. Now let's try and find some kind of shelter." But as they looked around them, there was none. "I think if we climb higher we'll reach the caves," Picard shouted, pointing upward. The thunder and lightning spurred them on, and they began to climb up a steep slope side by side, which only grew steeper until they realized they were nearly vertical. At some point Picard took the med kit from her and slung it over his back. Repeatedly they grasped a root ahead of them and then tried to propel themselves upward with their legs. It was extremely slippery and had it not been for the pouring rain they would have been completely covered in mud.

"You know," Beverly said trying to distract her mind from the fact that they were now much higher up than she found comfortable. "It used to rain on Caldos literally for days. I would grow so used to it that it was almost shock to see the sun."

"Oh? The summers seemed almost endlessly sunny at my home growing up. But the sun was my father's livelihood. We relied on it. In fact I can't think of anything worse than the days and days of rain you describe."

Just then they heard a roaring sound above them, and were horrified to see a rush of mud and water rushing toward them. "Oh no," Picard said, and linked his arm around Beverly's waist, gripping the root he'd been holding as tightly as possible.

"Shit!" Beverly cried out. They ducked their heads as the small mudslide descended upon them. Mercifully it was over so quickly and they did not lose their grips and were able to hang on.

His teeth now chattering, Picard closed his eyes and rested his head against the cold clay of the hillside. "That was close," he breathed. He could feel the rapid rise and fall of Beverly breathing as he carefully pulled his arm from around her waist.

Beverly spit out a mouthful of moss and looked at him. "Still can't think of anything worse than a little rain?"

Getting her point, Picard said nothing, but looked up ahead. "Look, we're almost there," he said. "Not much further and then we can find Riker."

"Right," was all she said.

* * *

Several minutes later they reached the top of the cliff and collapsed on the wet earth. After a moment's rest Picard pushed himself up, and reached out to help Beverly only to find that she had sprung to her feet before he had. She had her tricorder out and was looking for life signs. "It's faint, but at least here I've got something that could be Riker and his team," she said. She smiled at him through a face full of mud and said, "We're almost there."

Encouraged by her enthusiasm, he smiled back and looked up into the thick treetops, as the rain had become less heavy. "The storm's passing." He looked around them and then pointed. "Look! It's a cave entrance." Adjacent to the cave entrance was a beautiful waterfall flowing all the way down to the ground below them. He glanced back at Crusher to find that her bright demeanor had left her. He frowned and was prompted for some reason to place his hand on her shoulder. "Doctor, what's wrong?" Almost immediately, he removed his hand self-consciously, but she hadn't seemed to notice.

She pointed in the same direction he had been looking and glared at him like he was crazy. "I can't get over to that. Look how tiny that ledge is!" She swallowed and peered down over the cliff only to be welcomed by a wave of vertigo. "Ugh," she said, stepping backward.

 _She's afraid of heights,_ he noted with some surprise, finding it odd that she was afraid of anything at all. He followed her gaze and noted that yes, in order to get to the mouth of the cave they would have to traverse a very narrow ledge. In the pouring rain, while covered in mud. He thought it best not to suggest that it could be worse, lest he be proven wrong once again.

He smiled trying to be as encouraging as possible. As long as we stay tightly to the rock wall, we'll be fine," he reassured her. She forced a quick smile. "It's not far," he said. "Ready?"

* * *

Picard stepped out carefully onto the ledge and flattened himself against the wall, hoping to avoid another mudslide. His soggy uniform made a sucking sound against the rock and his boots were sodden with mud and water. He took a shuffling step to the left and then waved to Beverly. "It's alright, come on. It's very stable, don't worry."

Taking a deep breath she copied his movements, and refused to look down between her feet. She could hear the rush of the waterfall growing louder which meant they were reaching their destination. Instead of being encouraged, however, she felt a stab of fear and her legs wobbled. She stopped and shut her eyes tightly.

Picard looked at her with concern. "Come now, Doctor…all of that dancing you used to do has developed much better balance than I will ever have." She finally opened her eyes and looked at him and he could see the fear slowly ebbing. "You see?" he urged her gently. "I know this is nothing to you. We're almost there." She smiled at him and to his surprise, she reached out to grab his hand tightly.

If his heart had been fine before, it was now rapidly beating, but he didn't pull his hand away. Continuing their shuffling motion in silence they finally reached the other side. They jumped down into the cave entrance, seeing that it was flat, and were glad to get into some shelter finally. The ceiling of the cave was high enough that they didn't even need to duck.

Beverly sat down cross-legged on the damp floor. "Let's rest here for a minute, alright?"

He nodded and crouched down beside her looking out into the waterfall. It was so beautiful he admitted to himself, and yet all he could feel was uneasiness.

* * *

 **Elsewhere...**

"Sir, if we are able to get out of this cave system, we can contact the _Enterprise_ and beam out from there," Yar said.

"You heard the Captain," Riker said, trying to wrap Doctor Francis' ankle with a bandage from a small field med kit. "He told us to stay in one place. But you're right, Lieutenant. If we can get the doctor out of here and then meet the Captain at the cave entrance all will be well." He put his hand on Francis' shoulder. The man was pale and in shock, and had struck his head along with breaking his ankle when he'd tripped and fallen down into this larger cavern.

The last thing he wanted was for Captain Picard or Doctor Crusher to break their necks coming down here too. "Doctor can you walk with our help?" he asked the shivering man.

"Uh…uh I think so," the doctor said and slowly sat up. He felt the back of his head. "What the hell happened?"

Yar stood over him. "You fell," she said flatly.

Riker raise an eyebrow and looked up at his Security Chief. It was hard to miss the disapproving tone. How anyone could have tripped while doing something so simple as walking was probably beyond the limits of her tolerance. Riker stood up and looked at her. "Let's look for a way out, Lieutenant," he said calmly.

She nodded, and was immediately checking the perimeter for openings. Suddenly there was a scraping sound, and Riker nearly jumped out of his skin. "What was that?" he whispered.

Yar had already pulled her phaser. "It's coming from over there," she indicated. "Someone's been watching us!"

" _Easy_ , Lieutenant," he warned her. "Remember what the Captain said about avoiding the locals." But it was too late. Riker could see a pair of glinting eyes and then a shuffling as someone or something moved away quickly into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Beverly Crusher had vigorously massaged her biceps and shoulders and had even bounced up and down on the rocky ground for a full minute, but she could do nothing to get warm in this sopping uniform. Her muscles were stiff and sore. And now that they were about to venture into a dank dark cave she couldn't expect to be dry anytime soon.

So now she sat and hugged her knees to her chest, and watched as the Captain continued to crouch down a few feet away, looking out into the waterfall with a somewhat mesmerized expression. He hadn't seemed to notice her calisthenics, which frankly was fine with her. But whether he was deliberately avoiding conversation with her she couldn't tell.

She honestly hoped that he wasn't going to decide to give her the silent treatment because she had held his hand for a few seconds on that ledge. She'd been trying to keep her balance that was all. She studied his very straight posture even while crouching and was wondering if he was attempting to impress her by keeping completely still for so long. He didn't even appear to be cold. _Show off_ , she thought.

"I am _freezing_ ," she eventually declared. "Aren't you cold?"

He glanced over his shoulder at her. "Hmm? Yes," he admitted. He _was_ cold, and frankly just looking at her huddled there made him begin to shiver again. But he also felt somewhat distracted by the plight of the missing away team. He had been thinking things through, and given the communication difficulties, perhaps it would be better if Will and his team worked their way to Beverly and him instead of the other way around. But there was still the problem of the injured away team member. It then occurred to him that perhaps LaForge could attempt a beam out since the storm was now passing. He tapped his communicator but to his frustration it merely sputtered ineffectively. "Damn," he said under his breath.

"Well it's going to be even colder in there," she said nodding into the cave. He made some kind of grumbling noise. _These one way conversations are getting downright painful,_ she thought. _I'm sure he's worried about Will Riker although he'll never admit it._

She reached into her med kit and filled a hypo while her teeth chattered noisily. "Hold out your arm," she said as he knelt down beside her and stretched out his arm. "This stimulant will have to do until we can get out of these clothes."

Picard glanced sideways over at her wet uniform, very careful not to stare. It was an interesting choice of words, but he had no intention of saying something inappropriate in response. He heard the spray hiss into his arm and immediately felt warmth spread through his limbs.

"Thank you," he said as the drug swiftly kicked in. "I feel better already."

 _And thank_ _you_ _for saying more than three words_. "Good," she said aloud, getting to her feet. "We should find Riker now that we've had a moment's rest. I'm worried about Dr. Francis."

He simply nodded and then walked to the back of the cave looking for an opening. He almost swore out loud when it became clear that the opening was very low to the ground, which would mean they would have to crawl.

Crusher saw what he was looking at immediately and she hooked her thumb back at the treacherous ledge they had just crossed. "I'm not going back that way."

* * *

Picard sighed and lay down looking into the cave opening. _There is no goddamn way that Riker got through this tiny passageway with that giant body of his,_ was the first thought that came to his mind. "It's quite narrow. I would guess that Riker and his team took another route in," he called back to her in the most optimistic voice he could manage.

Beverly held her tricorder up. "After about ten meters it opens into a larger passageway," she said looking at the readout. "We just have to make it through the first part."

 _Thank you, Doctor, for stating the obvious._ Picard turned to look up at her from his prone position, and then faced the opening again. "I'll go first," he said, and began to shove his upper body into the opening. It sloped downward a few feet and then leveled off, but once he was inside there was no way to even crouch, and he had to remain on his belly.

"Can't you move forward any further than that?" Her voice sounded far away.

 _Not without losing most of my skin._ Picard sighed and grumbled to himself as he dragged himself forward holding a flashlight in his leading hand. He heard Beverly enter the cave behind him, and soon enough she was grumbling as well.

* * *

"Lieutenant," Riker whispered loudly. "Get away from that area. There's someone over there."

Yar waved her phaser in the direction their hidden observer had scurried away. "But sir, someone needs to stand guard," she insisted.

Riker glared at her. She was fiercely protective, and very capable, but right now she was a total pain in his ass. He crooked his finger at her. "Help me lift the doctor up this slope, so we can get back to where we came from. Do not interact with anyone, and do not fire your phaser inside this damn cave."

Yar swept her short bangs out of her eyes and walked back toward him, holstering her phaser without a word.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Despite Beverly's fear that it would be very cold inside the cave, it was so cramped that their body heat actually kept it reasonably warm. But it was uncomfortable and claustrophobic and Beverly couldn't wait to get through to the other side.

"Will you answer a question for me?" She asked abruptly, after a long period of silence.

 _Oh no_ , he thought and actually paused his slow crawl forward. "Very well…go ahead," he said hesitantly.

 _He's afraid I'm going to mention the Tsiolkovsky incident._ "If you could choose to be anywhere else right now, where would it be?"

Picard smiled, and paused to wipe a tiny piece of dirt out of his eye that was beginning to feel the size of a boulder. "Right here," he said, and resumed his crawl.

Crusher made a sputtering sound behind him.

"I beg your pardon?" He demanded, nearly scraping his head on the low ceiling.

"You expect me to believe, Captain, that of _all_ the places you could be in the universe, you would be happiest here in this cramped space? Although I'll admit to being a little flattered by that."

"The company does help," he admitted.

"Yes, but really…here?"

"I am doing my duty," he said. "It makes no difference whether I am on the bridge or here."

"So being a captain is what makes you happiest?"

"You never said anything about happiness," he retorted. "You asked me where I would choose to be."

"Fair enough," she allowed. "How long have you been fencing?"

"Ah…perhaps since I was about thirteen. Why do you ask?" he asked, both perplexed and irritated. He never understood talking just to talk, but assumed that Beverly was merely attempting to make the uncomfortable situation a little more bearable for herself. But her questions did not make it more bearable for him.

"No reason, just curious."

"Oh," he said rolling his eyes, which he only did because she could not see him. He paused and winced trying to shake out his right elbow which was tingling from the constant pressure on the hard ground.

"Do you like it?"

He coughed, waving at the dusty air. "Do I like what?"

"Fencing."

He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he would jump out of his skin if he didn't get out and onto his feet again. "No," he said.

" _What_? Then why do you do it?"

"Habit, I suppose. My father was a very intelligent but…traditional man. He detested or feared advanced technology—either way he didn't care for it. Physical strength was something he did admire and to the extent that I wanted to excel in sport, he was almost supportive. Fencing is about as traditional you can get when it comes to sports. I suppose there was a time when I wished for his approval."

"I see," Beverly said quietly, somewhat surprised by this revelation. She decided not to press the point.

* * *

Yar had deftly climbed back to the area above the cavern where they'd been safely walking before Francis' slip and fall. She grabbed the man underneath his armpits and Riker pushed him up from below.

"Ready? Lift!" Riker said and to his relief it went off without a problem. What he didn't expect was that when he glanced behind him, a woman would be standing there just a meter away. She looked very human, but when she spoke, it became clear that she was not.

"Grav senya," she said.

Riker's mouth hung open, completely unsure how to approach this situation. First contact. Picard would be furious. The woman was unarmed, was relatively small, with dark eyes and hair, pale skin and was dirty and wounded. A long cut stretched down from her forehead to her chest, and her clothes hung off of her in rags. She pointed behind her, and when he squinted into the darkness, he could see about a dozen other bedraggled looking people.

"Grav senya," she repeated, taking a step toward him. "Rolani, grav meta, em Pani."

"Sir," Yar called down to him. She had been watching, and was holding her tricorder in her hand. "The universal translator is working. "Her name is Rolani. She's asking us to help her family. She says they have been 'chosen'."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

They were the words he had been dreading she might say. And then she went and said them there in that cramped space with just a few more meters ahead of them.

"So…about last week," she said. Picard remained silent aside from his labored breathing. His lungs could barely expand and contract in this tiny passage and she was going to take the conversation there anyway.

At some point he had rehearsed what he would have liked to say in this circumstance. He chalked it up to the lack of oxygen, but for whatever the reason he was now drawing a blank.

"I just want you to know that if I said or did anything inappropriate, I'm sorry," she said. "And as far as I'm concerned it's over and done with and if it is alright with you I would just like to move on with a clean slate," she said quickly.

Picard raised an eyebrow, which of course went unseen by Doctor Crusher. Now he remembered what he was going to say, because it was similar enough to what she had just said. He cleared his throat. "There is no need to apologize, Doctor…of course we were suffering from the symptoms of a virus." He thought it had been the correct thing to say, but her silence confused him.

Presently she spoke again and there was a definite edge to her voice. "Captain, you make it sound as if we were gravely ill. Most of the crew were throwing parties in the corridors and having casual sex. Not exactly a life or death situation."

"Aside from the exploding star we nearly flew into, I suppose you are correct, Doctor. In any case, there is no need to dwell on what occurred. To be honest, I'm not sure I remember most of what I said…or did," he said. Again the silence was deafening. He had never felt so claustrophobic, despite the fact that the air had changed and he knew they were nearing the larger passage.

"That's funny, Captain, because of all the patients I cured of this virus, you are the only one who has reported experiencing a loss of memory."

"Doctor—" He pulled himself up a slope and his face was greeted by a wash of cold air. Not fresh by any means, but cold. He stood up slowly and stretched out his limbs briefly. But to his distress, Beverly was still focused like a laser on the dreaded topic. She was entering the same area now, and pulling herself up to stand next to him.

"You know, Captain, I am beginning to think that you _do_ remember, and instead of taking responsibility for your actions- which from what I recall were really quite mild—you are _pretending_ that nothing happened."

He turned away then, and paced away. He would later replay that move over and over in his mind.

* * *

As Beverly followed him she didn't see the motion out of the corner of her eye. But she felt the impact as someone or something hurtled out of nowhere and slammed into her side. She went sprawling to the floor, and landed in sand, rolling. It was a person—a man, and he was about to strike her.

Picard spun around at the sound of Beverly shouting and saw a dark shape leap upon her. Shouting he grabbed the attacker and spun him away from Beverly, throwing the man to the ground. And then he struck the man repeatedly, until he realized that the man wasn't fighting back. "Who are you?" he demanded, shining his light into the man's face with one hand and pinning him down with the other. "Tell me!" he shouted but when he raised his fist this time, Beverly grabbed his forearm.

"Stop it," she ordered him. "It's alright, Jean-Luc. He's not fighting back. Enough." Slowly he relaxed his arm. She grabbed him around his chest and pulled him backward and to his feet. Trying to get his breathing under control, he kept the light framed on the man's bloody face. His lips moved, but whatever he mumbled was alien to them.

"He's trying to say something," Beverly said quickly and switched on her tricorder's universal translator.

"Em Pani," the man whispered up at them. "Sem kolos."

"My God," Beverly gasped. "He says: 'I am chosen. Please kill me'."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Picard backed up, holding on to Beverly's arm. He stared down at the now neutralized attacker, who continued to watch the two of them expectantly. He could nearly feel the adrenaline flowing among the three of them. Did this young alien actually expect them to take his life? Picard shook his gaze away from the man. Even in the dark the man looked not only humanoid, but disturbingly human. "Are you alright?" he asked Beverly, taking hold of her arm.

Doctor Crusher jumped slightly but she didn't move away from him. She made a face and touched the left side of her ribcage gingerly. "Just some bruised ribs I think." Then she looked down at the scraped knuckles of his right hand. "You've injured your hand," she said. "Let me see," she demanded.

"No, it doesn't matter," he said, releasing her arm to pull his hand away.

She spread her arms wide as if to say _have it your way_. But then she whispered to him, "Captain, he looks _very_ human…."

"There is no possible way he is human, Doctor. There is no record of humanity having traveled in this sector, much less having settled on a planet in this part of the galaxy. He's humanoid, yes…but human, no."

Beverly shrugged, apparently still intrigued, and she raised her medical tricorder as though to scan the still prone alien.

Picard reached out quickly and closed her tricorder with a snap. "No. We have to find Riker and Yar and get out of here and back to the ship," he reminded her.

"Not before I give this person medical aid," she said stubbornly.

"Do _not_ touch him, Doctor, that's an order."

"Captain, you beat this man senseless a moment ago, and now you just expect me to leave him lying there?"

"Yes, I do! And he is clearly not senseless, as he was able to speak to us a moment ago."

"He just begged us to _kill_ him, Captain! How is this coherent thinking? Perhaps you hurt him more than you think."

He clenched his jaw and stared at her, but her expression was immovable. Perhaps reason would work? "Beverly we are aliens to him, and I have no idea why he would say such a thing-primarily because he is from a different culture entirely. Before Riker's beam down, we had no prior knowledge of a sentient species on this planet. The bottom line is that we should not be interacting any further with this man...being, I meant to say."

"So the Prime Directive allows you to harm him and then just leave him lying there?" she argued.

Even in the light of his flashlight he could see the color rising on her cheeks. She was persistent if nothing else—although she was many more things, he was beginning to see. "The Prime Directive has nothing to do with what just happened here, Doctor. He attacked you!"

"And you defended me, and don't think that I don't appreciate your help, Captain. But now he's injured, and I am a doctor."

Picard turned away from her and scratched his head. _Damn her stubborn nature, and damn my own for not beaming Riker and the others up when I had the chance._ Picard looked down the large passageway. Did he hear voices down there? Was it Riker? He strained to hear, but it had grown silent again. "Fine," he agreed tightly. "But _do not_ communicate with him."

Without a word, Beverly turned to attend to the fallen man, but spun back to Picard in surprise. "He's gone!"

* * *

" _This is highly troubling, Lt. Commander…what did you say your name was?"_

"Data," answered the android patiently. His audio and visual receptors captured the expression of arrogance and condescension of the individual on the forward view screen, and he catalogued these features for future reference. As an android this was of dubious importance, but as Starfleet officer in a diplomatic role, it was quite important.

Premier Fon of the Ciapathian people, glared back at Data through the view screen. The universal translator was operating at full efficiency, but the lack of understanding remained. " _You will have to excuse my rudeness,_ " said Fon. " _But am I speaking to a living being…or an automaton, sent to do Captain Picard's bidding?"_

Deanna Troi glanced at her colleague out of the corner of her eye. He had asked her to feel free to interject, acknowledging that she was better equipped and trained for diplomatic interaction than he. Deanna found this to be quite generous of Data, considering that Captain Picard had left him in charge. It was also very insightful. It was not lost on Troi that many a human being was unable to recognize his or her most obvious weaknesses, and yet this unassuming android had no trouble doing just that.

So far, she was happy to observe. But as she watched Data's tentative negotiation, she couldn't help but wonder if the Captain and the rest of the crew down on Trana IV were safe and well, and if they would be returning soon. After all, this diplomatic mission would be difficult enough without added time pressures.

Next to her, Data remained expressionless except for a slightly creased forehead. "Actually, Premier Fon, under Starfleet's diplomatic rules, I am not at all required to excuse your rudeness; however, I will continue to do so."

Fon's rose-colored skin deepened in color, and the thin fin-like protrusion running from his forehead to his chin fluttered slightly. " _Continue?_ _What is the meaning of this? Where is Captain Picard?_ " he demanded.

 _Oh he is not happy with Data_ , Deanna thought. _I should note this for future reference: Premier Fon is easily agitated. He also seems preoccupied with something not immediately related to his business with us. Perhaps this will be worth pursuing later, once negotiations are underway._

Data frowned. "As I have already informed you, Premier Fon, Captain Picard is currently indisposed. Now if you would clarify: when you ask 'what is the meaning of this' to what exactly are you referring?"

" _No I will not clarify my words to a machine! Is Captain Picard even on board your vessel_?" Fon appeared outraged.

Deanna cleared her throat. "I was not aware that bigotry was such a prominent facet of Ciapathian ideology, Premier Fon," she interjected. "Lt. Commander Data is a valuable member of this crew who was chosen by Captain Picard to command the Enterprise in his absence. I should think that insulting the Captain's designee would not be a positive beginning to talks between our two cultures."

Fon's pale blue eyes suddenly fixed on her, and she felt…cold. " _And who might you be?_ " he inquired.

"I am Lt. Commander Deanna Troi," she answered smoothly.

" _And are you also an expert on Ciapathian culture?"_

Deanna smiled. "I am aware that Ciapathians care greatly about adherence to societal expectations, promises; even something so simple as a schedule."

" _And?"_

"And Captain Picard has no intention of the _Enterprise_ being late for our meeting at the designated coordinates. I can give you my assurance, Premier Fon that our ship will be at the coordinates you have identified in six hours."

Fon settled back in his large chair. He lifted his chin and his color lightened somewhat. _"Very well, Commander Troi. I appreciate your taking this matter under your very careful consideration. And I look forward to meeting you in six hours."_ He nodded curtly and the screen turned to black.

Deanna sighed and let herself deflate a bit into the chair. She bit her bottom lip and glanced over at Data with a slow smile. "That was close."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

* * *

Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher hurried along beside each other in silence, intent upon reaching the away team. After hearing a few familiar voices up ahead, they had nearly forgotten about the disappearing alien. Presumably he had retreated into the shadows, hopefully, as far as Picard was concerned never to return. He didn't need the aggravation or complication, and certainly had more constructive things to do than argue with his CMO.

To Picard's considerable relief they met up with the away team at a juncture. Riker and Yar had balanced Dr. Francis in between them, and he limped along quickly enough, while his colleagues supported him.

Riker broke into a grin, and laughed when he saw them. "Captain, Doctor. Glad to see you came to our rescue…and especially that you're alright," he added.

Picard smiled back at his first officer. "And you as well." He nodded at Dr. Francis. "You're not hurt too badly I hope, Doctor?"

Francis forced a weak smile. "No sir." He balanced on his good foot and held up a small bag. "And I was able to retrieve some very good mineral samples, Captain."

"Very good," Picard agreed.

"What happened to you two?" Yar's concern was palpable as she stared at them aghast.

Picard looked down at his muddy uniform. "Oh. Yes, well—"

"You missed the storm," Crusher said. "With sheets of rain…and waves of mud," she added, carefully checking over Dr. Francis' injuries.

"Nice work wrapping that ankle," she mentioned. "For an amateur," she added, observing Riker's quick grin. She used the bone knitting device on the scientist's leg and then encouraged him to try it out.

Riker grew serious and pointed where the passageway branched off abruptly. "That's the way we came in," he said. "It's not far."

Picard nodded, personally satisfied that they would not yet again be required to drag their stomachs and other sensitive areas along the rocky cave floor.

Picard's head jerked up at the sound of soft footsteps. "What was that?"

Riker and Yar exchanged glances. "We're being followed Captain," Riker admitted.

"And you just thought to mention that now?" Picard snapped.

"I don't think we're in any danger, Captain," Riker said. "This was the fastest the three of us could travel, and they haven't ambushed us yet."

" _Who?"_ Picard and Crusher demanded at the same time. It was Dr. Francis who pointed back over his shoulder.

"Them," Dr. Francis said softly. Picard followed his gaze and sure enough the shuffling feet belonged to a group of perhaps a dozen tattered looking individuals—just as humanoid in appearance as the man who had attacked them. In fact, even in the shadows, Picard could see that the young man was now standing with the group. A woman stood at the front and had reached her arm around the still agitated young man and she was holding him to her tightly. She said something softly to him in an entirely alien language.

Picard could tell right away that she was the leader of this outfit, but he didn't intend on any introductions if he could help it. He had to minimize any further contact with the native people of this planet. He turned to Riker. "We're leaving now Commander. And make no mistake, we _shall_ discuss the details of what happened here, once we're back on board our ship," he said tightly. Riker sighed inwardly but said nothing in response.

* * *

They walked as hastily as possible with Doctor Francis' injury, and the group of aliens followed behind them with quiet footfalls, saying nothing. When they emerged from the caves, the sunlight was almost blinding. To their good fortune, the storm had long departed. Picard immediately tapped his communicator. "Picard to Data."

" _Data here. Your transport signature is now clear, Captain. Lt. LaForge reports that he reads the entire away team. You should also be aware that there is a group of unidentified humanoid life forms in your area."_

"We know, Data."

" _We are ready to transport on your signal, Captain,"_ LaForge's eager voice drifted at them.

Picard and Riker glanced at the group of bedraggled people who had just exited the cave. A few of them had raised their voices and appeared to be starting an altercation. "Stand by, Lieutenant. We'd better get clear of them and then transport when they're out of sight," Picard muttered in a lower voice. "We don't need any further complications, Commander," he said to Riker.

"Understood sir."

Suddenly the away team turned as the commotion among the planet's inhabitants had grown more intense. The woman from the caves was rushing toward them. Yar stepped in front of Picard holding her phaser at the ready. The woman began screaming in her native language over and over. "Grav meta, em pani! Grav meta, em pani!"

Yar didn't need the translator anymore, that bizarre phrase having been burned into her ears down in the caves. "She's saying 'help us, we are chosen', sir," said Yar.

Beverly glanced at Picard. "Captain, that young man who attacked us said something similar."

"Man who _attacked_ you?" Riker shot Picard an incredulous look. Apparently the away team hadn't been the only ones to make contact after all. Picard ignored his annoyed first officer, still watching the strange scene playing out.

A man fell into step behind the woman, and it became clear he was chasing her. He caught up to her quickly and tackled her to the ground. Beverly began to run toward the fallen woman, but Yar stuck out her arm and stopped Doctor Crusher in her tracks.

The woman moved like lightning and had wrestled herself from the man's grasp. Unexpectedly, instead of running, she spun and kicked the man in the face. He grunted and tried to struggle to his feet, as the woman resumed her run toward Picard and his crew.

"Rolani!" her pursuer screamed, staggering after her.

But he was too late, as Rolani reached Picard, halting in front of him.

"Rolani meechu. Canul?" She bowed her head. "Em pani. Meecha Canul?"

Yar was too busy pointing her phaser at the woman to translate, so Picard tried the universal translator on his communicator, tapping it twice. It appeared to be working again, so he nodded for the others to activate their translators as well. Despite his misgivings, something caused him to gesture for her to repeat herself, which surprisingly she seemed to understand.

When the woman spoke again it was clear. "I am Rolani," she said. "Brethren?" she asked Picard and bowed lower to him this time. "I am Chosen. Are you Brethren?"

Picard frowned and shook his head. "No. I am not Brethren."

The woman let out a gasp of relief and crouched at Picard's feet, head bowed. "You are god, you are god," she repeated over and over.

Picard backed up. "No," he gave Riker an accusatory look, which Will didn't feel was exactly fair. "I'm sorry," Picard murmured to the woman. "I am not who you think I am."

The man who had been chasing Rolani suddenly began screaming at Picard. "Whether you are Brethren or not, you must kill us! Do not abandon us here! We are Chosen!"

* * *

This was getting out of hand, and he had business to attend to on the Enterprise. Picard shook his head and turned to leave, when the woman who had identified herself as Rolani began shouting back at the man.

"We are free. Now that god has come, the Brethren cannot touch us." Then Picard watched in shock as the young man who had attacked Beverly back in the caves walked up beside Rolani and took her hand. "This is my brother, Li. He says he met you in the caves and he asked you to kill him. Instead you touched him, but he did not die," she pointed to the young man's bruised and bloodied face.

Picard felt awash with guilt. The man had apparently been happy to have been struck by Picard—and to have lived. Underneath his confusion, he felt incredibly guilty. "You spared him," Rolani explained. "Not like the others who died at the hands of the Brethren." Suddenly she grabbed Picard's hand tightly. "You are god." Picard tried to pry his hand from hers, but she clung to him desperately.

"You must save us. Please save us! We have seen you come from the sky," she pointed at Riker. "You can return from where you descended and you must take us with you."

"We must not become entangled in matters of your society," Picard told Rolani.

"If you do not, we will all die at the hands of the Brethren. They will come for us and kill us all."

"Leave us here," shouted Rolani's opponent. "We were Chosen to die."

"No!" Rolani shouted. "I want to live. And so do they," she pointed back at the group of people, staring wide-eyed at him. When he looked at them they dropped down to the ground and bowed their heads.

Rolani gripped his hand even tighter. "Please. They will return and slaughter us all!"

Picard closed his eyes. He wasn't sure why he made the decision, or whether he would, in the end, regret that he had made it. He tapped his communicator. "LaForge…can you get a lock on the life forms in our immediate vicinity?" Picard glanced at Riker, whose jaw had literally dropped.

" _Aye sir…."_ was Geordi's reply.

"Mr. Data…."

" _Yes, sir?"_

"I need you to create a program replicating the environment of this planet on holodeck one. Understood? Do it quickly, we can improve the program later."

" _Aye sir."_ There was a pause. _"The program is complete sir."_

 _That was certainly quick._ "Good. Geordi, lock on to the life forms and beam them to holodeck one. And once that is complete, beam us to transporter room one."

" _Aye sir."_

Picard finally tugged his hand away from Rolani and stepped back just as she and Li and the others disappeared in a collective transporter beam.

By the time a second transporter sequence took the away team, Picard had already begun to question his own decision.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Picard sat in his quarters with the lights turned down low, despite the fact that it was mid-afternoon. He had taken a shower, put on a fresh uniform, but was far from relaxed. He sat very still with his forehead resting on his palms. To the outward observer he would have appeared to have been on the verge of sleep. Unfortunately nothing could have been further from reality. His mind was racing.

His first meeting with the Ciapathians would take place in just under four hours. All of his diligent preparation with Counselor Troi seemed to have been jettisoned from his consciousness following the incident down on Trana IV. He was trying to gather it back and reorganize it in time for the negotiations. At the same time a much more dominant corner of his mind was continually replaying the conversation with Admiral Nechayev he'd finished just minutes ago on a priority one channel.

" _I have read the separate accounts from your crew regarding the incident down on Trana IV, Captain. I have also taken the liberty of sharing your report on Trana IV with some of my colleagues here at command,"_ Nechayev had said.

"Thank you Vice Admiral," he'd replied.

She'd given him a rare smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. " _Captain, the Prime Directive violation is understandable under the circumstances. And your crew was more than supportive in their statements."_

"Yet it is still considered a violation," he said. "At least it does not fall under any of the usual exceptions. Of course my own crew was not at risk."

" _I would like to think that anyone else in your position would have done the same. There were exigent circumstances of course."_

"As you know sir, the problem was not just that I beamed them up to the safety of the Enterprise—a place entirely alien to them- but also I took the word of their leader, Rolani without question. No one actually gave their consent, and some of those individuals actually wanted to be left there to die!"

 _"Hmm. Still…the incident is sure to be expunged from your record eventually, Captain_ ," she reassured him.

"Admiral, my record is the least of my worries right now." He gripped his knees tightly. A twinge in his right fist reminded him of the look on the face of the young alien he had injured. "What on _earth_ am I to do with this group of people, now that they are on board my ship?"

" _Do your best to minimize the damage,"_ Nechayev said in her usual perfunctory manner.

"Any immediate steps that would require returning them to Trana IV, are absolutely out of the question, Admiral...at least while they are still at risk from these Brethren individuals."

 _"For the moment, I agree."_ She allowed a small smile. _"Although, the actual threat to these people may be as much of a fallacy as their belief that you are a god, captain."_

He couldn't share her amusement, but she had a point. "It may be a fabrication, or perhaps they are merely delusional."

" _Or, they actually are at risk from these Brethren people,"_ she said. _"Perhaps you will need to find out exactly who the Brethren are in order to decide what must be done with these refugees from Trana IV. Whatever you decide, Captain, it is important that you do not allow the Ciapathians to become aware of your holodeck guests. Beyond the obvious Prime Directive concerns, we do not need additional mistrust or confusion to arise which might hamper negotiations."_

"Were you aware of any sentient species besides the Ciapathians in this sector, Admiral?" Of all his superiors, Picard knew Alynna Nechayev couldn't care less about being put on the spot. But something about the sudden change in her demeanor gave him pause.

Her expression grew more severe. _"There are several cultures known to Starfleet,_ " she admitted. " _But we certainly didn't expect to find any on Trana IV."_ She leaned forward emphatically. " _All the better that you and your crew were the ones to encounter them, Jean-Luc. There is no other captain who I trust more. In fact I handpicked you for this assignment."_

He raised quizzical eyebrows. "The Ciapathian negotiations, or the mission to find Andurine on Trana IV?"

 _"Both,"_ she said. _"The two are connected, if you haven't already guessed."_

He nodded. "At first I assumed the negotiations were made a priority because of the Ciapathians considerable expertise in the medical sciences. But...as I considered it, by bringing the Ciapathians into the Federation, this sector would be opened up to exploration. I also had Mr. Data do some research and he determined that there are six other supposedly barren planets in this sector which are rich in mineral deposits-namely Andurine."

She smiled. " _You've seen its incredible masking attributes up close and personal, Picard. Now are you convinced of its worth to the Federation?"_

He nodded. "Yes, but I am also convinced that it presents a danger to our values. The development of cloaking technology by the Federation is illegal, Admiral. We are explorers—we have no cause to be sneaking about under cover."

 _"There are some...many in fact who don't share your adherence to duty and are willing to overlook certain legalities, Captain. Of course...I am not one of those people,"_ she added.

"That goes without saying, Admiral. But are you saying that the reason I am being asked to do my best to ensure approval of the Ciapathian's petition is because the worlds in their sector hold Andurine? "

" _There is always more than one reason. But let us just say, Captain, that if you hadn't left Trana IV with some viable samples, Command would be looking perhaps more critically at the Prime Directive violation. I however, am more concerned with whether the Ciapathians are good candidates for entry into our society."_

Picard sighed and then frowned as a thought occurred to him. "If these Brethren do exist, Admiral, and they apparently have space flight capability, how is it that the dominant species in this sector, the Ciapathians are not aware of them?"

Nechayev smiled slowly. _"_ _If_ _the Brethren exist, who says the Ciapathians are unaware of them?"_

"Well, then they have conveniently left any mention of the Brethren out of their recorded history of this sector. And to add to that…they have reported Trana IV as uninhabited."

Nechayev 's gaze was piercing even through the vid screen. "Captain, I am intrigued by this line of thinking. Let us resolve the mystery of these Brethren. If the Ciapathians are aware of these brutes, and haven't mentioned them thus far, it could negatively affect their petition."

 _She doesn't trust the Ciapathians; that much is clear,_ he thought. "Yes sir."

Nechayev nodded and reached out as though to cut the connection, but hesitated. _"One more thing, Captain. How are things progressing with your Chief Medical Officer?"_

Picard felt stunned as if he had just been sucker punched. "Progressing...what do you mean?"

 _"It's a simple question, Captain. Quite frankly your hesitation concerns me."_

He straightened. "Sir, Doctor Crusher is acclimating very well-"

 _"Of course she is, she's the best we have,"_ Nechayev snapped.

"Yes, then why-"

 _"Jean Luc, do you have any idea how hard Beverly crusher fought to obtain the CMO position on board your ship?_ "

He remained silent unsure of how to respond.

Nechayev didn't seem to mind. _"I was one of her biggest critics early on," the Admiral admitted. "It was difficult for many of us involved in the Enterprise commission to believe that she could objectively serve under the command of someone who was so central to such a tragic period in her life. But she convinced me. You will both be doing the Fleet a service if you prove those wrong who believe you two will not be able to move beyond Jack Crusher's death in order to serve together. Your colleagues need people like the two of you to believe in, Captain."_

He knew he hadn't been able to prevent himself from wincing involuntarily at the mention of Jack's name.

" _I see that you still have progress to make in this area, captain_ ," she remarked more gently than he had come to expect from her.

He looked down at his hands for a few moments. "Yes," he finally admitted quietly, looking up at her.

" _Jean-Luc...I have never met an officer who had no personal or professional hurdles to overcome. There is no doubt that you have more than a few still in your way. But you are a person who faces problems. You don't avoid the hurdles, you leap them. This matter with your CMO is no different."_

He straightened in his chair. "Yes Admiral. I shall endeavor to do as you say," he said, still not entirely sure what she was asking of him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

The subspace conversation had ended then and now Picard was still deep in thought. That is, until the door to his quarters beeped. _Damn._ He preferred to be alone when he needed to think. He glanced up and felt an unpleasant tightening in the back of his neck. "Come," he forced himself to call out. He stood up stiffly from his desk and smoothed out his uniform.

" _Yes?"_ he called out again with undisguised irritation, as the doors swished open and Beverly Crusher stepped inside. She too had changed out of her stiff muddy uniform and unlike him she at least appeared relaxed. He watched as she walked over, and noted no limping or other difficulty. He was relieved that she hadn't been more injured by the attack in the cave.

She smiled at him. "Hello, Captain."

"Hello," he said, clasping his hands in front of him. "You are looking well. No serious injuries, I hope?"

She circled around for a moment and then stopped in front of him. "I'm feeling fine," she said. "Thank you for asking."

He nodded, and started to say something, but it came out as a quickly mumbled "Yes, of course."

She placed her hands behind her back and shifted her feet. She nodded downward. "How is your hand?"

He smiled. "Very well, thank you."

She frowned. "You never came to see me for medical treatment," she observed. She didn't sound the least bit irritated, which he thought was quite positive.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It was...it was really a minor injury you see."

She shook her head and shrugged back. "No I don't see. Why don't you let me take a look at it?"

"You don't have your med kit," he said.

"I was a doctor long before I owned a med kit, Captain," she said smoothly. She gestured over at his couch. "Why don't we sit down over here? It's more comfortable than standing here staring at each other."

"I am certainly not staring at you," he protested, and it came out more defensively than he intended. If she was offended by his tone, she didn't let on, and had already walked over to his couch and sat down. She looked at him expectantly, and he suddenly realized that it appeared that she was enjoying his discomfort. She slowly patted the couch cushion beside her. Annoyed at his own foolishness he walked over and sat down next to her stiffly with his hands on his knees.

She held out her hand, and he reluctantly raised his bruised hand for her to look at. She took his hand gently, and he tensed a little bit. Embarrassed he said, "Your hand is a little cold."

She smiled slightly but said nothing as she turned his hand over in hers, studying it. "I wanted to tell you...you did the right thing down on Trana IV."

He inhaled deeply and looked away. "I did the right thing for that moment," he said turning back to her. "It remains to be seen whether I will be able to continue to make the right decisions as far as the Trana people are concerned."

"Is that what we're calling them now?" she asked. He jumped a little bit when she traced her fingertips over his knuckles. She looked at him with some surprise. "Does that hurt?"

He shook his head no, quickly. It hadn't hurt, but the mere touch of her hand had an effect on him that he hadn't anticipated. His breath caught in his throat. "It's fine," he said.

She smiled faintly again and bent his wrist back and forth gently. "I can see already you are the type who doesn't enjoy visiting the doctor, Captain. Don't worry, I won't take it personally. Most people absolutely hate going to the doctor."

He looked down and noted that there was very little space between his knee and hers as they sat beside each other. He cleared his throat. Was she nearly done? He was growing uncomfortably warm for some reason. Feeling her gaze on his face he turned to look at her. She had stopped examining his hand and was now just holding it lightly in her own.

"You were right," she said softly. "Your hand is just fine. Just a little bruising is all."

He looked down at their joined hands and then back up into her face. "Oh. Alright."

There was an almost surreal silence, and Beverly seemed to lean closer to him, but then suddenly she released his hand. Her face changed, grew more tense. "I should go." She stood up and folded her arms over her chest as a kind of shield, appearing just as uncomfortable as he felt.

She forced a smile. "You're going to hold a briefing soon on the Trana people?"

He nodded, but remained seated, not wanting to close the distance between them again. "I know that it seems callous, Doctor to just leave them there... but I've got to get through this initial meeting with the Ciapathians this evening. I have asked Counselor Troi to arrange for the dinner to be held tomorrow evening. After the meeting tonight if you would meet me at the holodeck we can speak to Rolani and the others and determine their immediate needs. For now I've arranged for food to be discreetly delivered to them on the holodeck."

She nodded. "Whatever you think is best, of course," she said evenly. "Good luck with the Ciapathians...and I will see you later."

"Thank you for coming by, Doctor," he said standing up as she exited.

* * *

 **Sometime later...**

* * *

Picard, Riker and Counselor Troi stood in the transporter room awaiting the arrival of Premier Fon and Representative Del from the lead Ciapathian Delegate ship.

Although initially relieved by Picard's decision down on Trana IV, Will Riker was now just as worried as the Captain about what to do with the survivors, currently housed on holodeck one. Will supposed that he would have to trust that Captain Picard had some kind of plan. And now, the Ciapathians, proving to be extremely punctual, were already waiting at the designated coordinates when the Enterprise arrived. What the Enterprise crew had not been expecting was that the Ciapathians would decide to bring a quarter of their space fleet with them.

"Fifteen ships…seems like overkill to me," Riker said quietly, turning to address the Captain.

"Agreed, Commander," said Picard, not taking his eyes off of the transporter pad. Riker was right…to send an entire convoy of ships to a peaceful negotiation was an odd way to begin a relationship. However, there was no need for alarm. Picard had come to take cultural differences and perceptions in stride. He suspected the Ciapathians were attempting to send a message, but what that was remained to be seen. Although not at the forefront of his concerns, Picard also sincerely hoped that Del would not be bringing any one of his twenty-two children along to this meeting today. To his left, Counselor Troi had her eyes closed, and appeared to be in some kind of meditative state. As long as she was alert once the Ciapathians were in the room, he decided not to concern himself with her odd methods.

Deanna Troi meanwhile had been calming her mind for the upcoming meeting. To be faced with several new alien minds, in addition to the racing mind of Will Riker and the focused mind of the captain was going to be a challenge, she knew. She had warned both Picard and Riker about Premier Fon's arrogance during his interaction with Data, and had suggested that the Ciapathian leader might be hiding something. Of course the Captain had looked at her with his steely gaze and asked "what exactly is it that he is hiding?" And of course Picard found her response to be unsatisfactory. And there was the problem Troi now realized she would regularly face with her new captain; he was exact, and expected direct answers at all times. Deanna, while direct in her speech and as a counselor, often relied on sensing the emotions of those she was interacting with. And being a skilled empath was part training, part genetics, and never exact.

"The Ciapathians are requesting to beam over, Captain," said the Transporter Chief, interrupting everyone's thoughts.

 _About bloody time._ Picard nodded. "Go ahead, Mr. O'Brien."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

In person, the Ciapathians were curious to look upon. Even more curious was that Premier Fon, his chief scientist Dr. Petral, and his Chief of Arms Reth appeared physically very different than Representative Del, who to Picard's surprise came alone. Although all of the Ciapathians had bright red skin, Premier Fon and his entourage were of noticeably lighter complexions, and to a person they were considerably taller than Del. They all shared the distinctive forehead to chin ridge in the center of the face, and all had light blue eyes. _Perhaps these are the two dominant ethnic groups_ , thought Picard.

To the Enterprise crew's slight discomfort, Chief of Arms Reth had brought along what they could only assume was the equivalent of a guard dog. Reth held onto the hissing, growling creature with a short energy chord, which he held tightly. The creature resembled a giant black insect with snapping pincers at the front of its mouth. It made Riker reconsider having left his phaser behind. Reth himself was taller than Riker and very broad shouldered. He said nothing, but a cold smile was fixed on his thin lips as he glanced around at the ship's interior, and its crew. Riker noted that a nasty looking whip was coiled at Reth's hip.

Dr. Petral stood very still, with his hands behind his back. His eyes were shielded by a strange-looking ruby red visor, not very similar to the one Laforge wore. Like Reth, he remained silent.

Fon was tall and imperious, while Del was short and stout, and completely bald with a long beard. They both stepped down from the transporter pad at the same time. "Captain Picard," Premier Fon said, extending his hand. "I greet you in the traditional manner of your people." He smiled, but it seemed artificial as though he had been practicing with some difficulty for this moment. Practicing no doubt, just as Picard had been.

Picard stepped forward and clasped his hand. "Premier Fon, on behalf of the United Federation of Planets, it is a pleasure to meet you. And Representative Del," said Picard offering his hand. "A pleasure to meet you as well. Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_."

Del broke into a wide smile, revealing large white teeth. "This may prove to be an interesting adventure, Captain." He glanced around him. "A beautiful ship, indeed. My wives will be impressed."

* * *

"Hi Mom."

Beverly looked up from the requisition report she had been reading. "Oh, hi Wes. How was school?"

He shrugged and sat down, slumping in the chair. "Okay, I guess."

Beverly put down her data pad and looked at him. "You came all the way to sickbay to tell me that your day was okay you 'guess'...what's going on? Come on and tell your mother," she said teasingly and reached across the desk to try and poke him.

Wesley jerked backward in his chair. "Mom!"

Beverly laughed. "Well you are _very_ sensitive today, I see." She sat back in her chair and watched her son, who remained tight-lipped. "Alright, you don't have to tell me…we can just sit here and have a staring contest. You know I always win at that."

He made a face. He was at the age of making faces, she supposed. She thought of the Ciapathian politician with the twenty plus kids and considered herself lucky to have only one sullen teen to contend with.

"Have you talked to Captain Picard?" He asked after a moment.

Beverly blinked and then laughed. "Wes, you're going to have to be more specific than that. I talk to him at least once a day about one thing or another." _Whether he decides to engage in the conversation is entirely another matter,_ she thought to herself.

"Mom…."

Suddenly realizing what he meant, she sighed. "Wes…really you're going to have to put the Tsiolkovsky incident behind you." _Take your own advice, Beverly._

"I just feel like he's going to hold it against me forever. I mean, I did take over the ship after all. And he seemed more than a little upset at the time."

"Trust me, the captain isn't dwelling on the matter, and neither should you."

"Yeah but, well I was going to apologize to him, but every time I see him he either walks by me like he doesn't even see me or he just nods like he wishes he hadn't seen me."

Beverly smiled sympathetically. "I know. But, if it is really bothering you so much, I could ask for him to meet with you—"

"Mom!" Wesley stood up quickly and ran a hand through his hair. "No…it's okay, I don't need you sticking up for me—"

"I'm your _mother_ , Wes. That's what I do."

"I know…but he already just thinks I'm just some dumb kid—"

"Wesley!"

He sat back down heavily. She regarded her son and his forlorn expression. She hadn't realized until that moment how much he had been seeking Captain Picard's approval. No doubt this is why his symptoms from the Tsiolkovsky virus had manifested themselves in such an extreme way. Taking over engineering and the ship…and then ultimately devising a way to help save the ship from an exploding star. Something about his admiration for the captain made her proud of her son and worried at the same time.

She reached out and took his hand. "Wes, look…I have known Captain Picard a long time. And I know for a fact that he doesn't just view you as some dumb kid. Remember he knew you when you were a little boy. He met you when you were just a baby."

Wesley shrugged but didn't pull his hand away from hers. He looked at her. "I don't understand how he and dad could have been such good friends. I mean dad was always laughing about something, but Captain Picard…well it's like he's the opposite of dad or something."

"Opposites attract," she said, and then couldn't believe that she'd said something so silly. She closed her eyes briefly. "What I meant to say, Wes... is that your father and the captain had many things in common, despite their differences, that made them the best of friends. They loved each other. So I know that the captain cares about you too. Maybe you remind him of Jack, of his friend."

"Did he tell you all of that?"

"Well, not in so many words, no…."

Wesley smiled slightly. "I get it. He doesn't tell anyone how he really feels. I wish I could be that way."

"Wes, what do you mean?" Beverly asked quietly.

"I'm not good at holding things in. If I feel something I can't help it, I have to show it—I have to tell someone."

"But I'm glad about that, Wesley. That's who you are."

Wesley blushed. "Thanks, Mom." He got up from his seat and gave her a quick hug. "I'm going to go home. Are you working through dinner?"

She smiled up at him. "No, I'll be home in about an hour. See you then?" He nodded and then left her office quickly.

* * *

Beverly looked down at her hands in her lap. She thought about the fact that she had held the captain's hand twice in one day. Granted the first time, she had been hanging on for dear life. But the second time…why had she held his hand when they were alone together? And why had she pulled away? Had he wanted to be closer to her? Something inside her told her that he did, but as Wesley had accurately pointed out, Jean-Luc did not easily reveal his feelings.

In the caves, she had accused him of conveniently forgetting what had happened between them the week before when they were infected with the Tsiolkovsky virus. But what she'd really been upset about was that in doing so, he was also denying something that had gone unspoken between them for years. But she knew that being angry at him wasn't fair, since she had never admitted her feelings to him either.

In truth she didn't even understand what those feelings were. She recognized that they had both shared an attraction that remained uncomfortably present throughout her marriage to Jack, but that was moderated by the fact that they didn't often see one another. And now, it seemed that the unspoken fear was that that if either of them admitted how they felt, they would be betraying Jack.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The initial meeting mainly involved introductions, and the setting of ground rules for the negotiations, interrupted only occasionally by the hissing of Reth's giant insect, which sat poised on its six segmented legs in the corner of the conference room. It became clear very quickly that the two Ciapathian leaders disliked each other—greatly. It also became clear that Fon was here to ensure entry into the Federation, and Del, as friendly as he had appeared initially, was determined to do whatever he could to prevent that from happening.

After the meeting, Riker showed the guests to their temporary quarters while Picard and Troi walked through the corridors of the ship. "Your thoughts, Counselor?"

Troi glanced up at the Captain as they walked side by side. "As you no doubt noticed, sir, Fon and Del are political enemies. They have been vying for control on their planet for years, and for the moment Fon has the upper hand."

"More than a mere moment, Counselor. It seems Fon's Ascendency party has been dominating leadership roles for the last ten years. Del's Core party on the other hand has been losing ground," said Picard.

"The distrust between them is nearly overwhelming," she agreed. "Del believes that Fon is hiding something of a very serious nature. Fon wants to keep Del from any chance at stealing his position as Premier, and there is something else…."

Picard frowned down at her seriously. "What?"

"Del has no feeling for us whatsoever, except that he is uninterested in joining the Federation. Fon, Reth and Dr. Petral on the other hand all seem to share a…common disdain for us. Fon as you have seen is polite enough, but underneath is a very visceral dislike of us."

Picard placed his hands behind his back. "Hmm. Well if that is the case, I will have to press that point. Diplomatically, of course," he added with a small smile, glancing over at her.

Deanna smiled back at him. "Of course, sir."

* * *

They walked along a little further in silence, and Troi felt his thoughts shift to another topic of concern. "Counselor, I need you to assist me with the Trana IV matter."

"You mean the survivors?" She watched him carefully, aware that it was a delicate subject for him. He nodded almost imperceptibly, but didn't reply. There was no question that he had made the right moral decision to bring the Trana people on board, but now the issue was complicated. No doubt, the captain was under orders to keep the Trana people out of the way while the Ciapathian petition was sorted out. And in order to avoid further violations of the Prime Directive, exposure to Starfleet technology would have to be minimized. If the survivors required any kind of medical care, this would be difficult.

"I've discussed this issue with Commander Riker," said Picard. "And at least for now I want the Trana people to interact only with those who were present down on the planet…and you. You see, Counselor, in order for me to determine the correct course of action with regard to these people I need to find out how best to help them without further violations of the Prime Directive, if possible. But, I would like to know who these Brethren people are. Any questions posed to the Trana people outside of that subject are to be avoided. Understood?"

She nodded. "Yes sir."

"Good. Doctor Crusher is waiting for us outside the holodeck. I realize that it is getting late, but I think it important that we at least try and make some headway tonight. And then there is the matter of my involvement."

Deanna had guessed this was coming. "You want to avoid meeting with the Trana people as much as possible because they believe you are a god. And this makes you highly uncomfortable," she said.

He looked at her sharply, apparently annoyed that she had read him so accurately. "Yes," he confirmed tightly.

"Captain I have to advise against staying away. The more you personally interact with the Trana people, the more likely you are to get the answers you seek from them. In addition, you may be able to convince them that you are not in fact a god by interacting with them in the same manner as myself and Doctor Crusher ."

"Hmm," was all he said in response. Picard remained silent the rest of the walk to the holodeck, and she could tell that he was rolling the entire day's events around in his mind.

So much had happened in just one day, and just thinking about it made her exhausted. Deanna brought her hand up to her mouth to cover a yawn, shutting her eyes just as a fresh blast of emotion from Captain Picard's mind slapped her awake. She opened her eyes and saw that Beverly Crusher was waiting outside the holodeck and had turned to look at them. Deanna smiled at her new friend, who was holding a med kit, but Troi noted she had left her trusty tricorder behind.

Beverly smiled back at Deanna, but when her gaze fell on the captain, Troi felt another uncomfortable wave of emotion. _I don't think I am going to be able to handle the minds of these two together at this time of night, not to mention a group of distraught refugees. I really would prefer a nice hot chocolate and some rest._

"The meeting went later than expected, I see," Crusher remarked as they approached.

"Yes," Picard said stiffly. "And we've got a long road ahead of us unfortunately. At any rate, thank you for coming, Doctor."

 _You did order me to be here._ "Of course sir," she said aloud.

"I have just explained to Counselor Troi the tentative plan for dealing with the Trana people. I want to ensure that they are well cared for, well fed, and I also need to find out who these Brethren are, they are so frightened of. In order to do that I plan on being as truthful with them as I can. Any medical care should be provided only to heal injuries they may have. No medical tests are to be done, whether they give consent or not."

Beverly nodded. 'Agreed." She gestured toward the door, obviously wanting to proceed.

* * *

After switching to their universal translators, they entered the holodeck, and found that the survivors were nowhere to be seen. As they stood there however, shouts could be heard, and then in the distance they spotted the group of fourteen people with the exception of the man who had struggled with Rolani. No doubt he had isolated himself from the others.

Rolani and her brother Li approached them first. They stared with interest at Troi before speaking. "We were taken by a fire that didn't burn, and when it was gone we were here," Rolani said, gesturing around her. "It seems like Trana…but it is not, is it?"

Picard stepped forward. "No," he said. Immediately Rolani, Li, and the rest of the group dropped to their knees in the dust averting their eyes. Troi and Crusher exchanged glances. Picard cleared his throat uncomfortably. "On Trana you said you saw our people come from the sky. Well we are now in the sky in a vessel that travels the stars. We took you away from Trana because we feared you would be killed. We want to offer you our assistance."

"I told the others you were god, and now they know this is true. You have created pictures of Trana for us to live in…it seems like Trana, but here we are safe from the Brethren."

Picard stepped back, and gestured to Doctor Crusher. "We offer you medical aid. This is Doctor Beverly Crusher."

Beverly stepped forward, looking at Li, who stared back at her placidly. He looked maybe five years older than Wesley, and innocent. It was hard to believe he had attacked her inside the caves of Trana IV. Beverly looked into the young man's face. His nose was swollen and there was bruising underneath his eyes. "Your nose is broken," she said to him and then turned to Rolani. "I can help him." Rolani whispered in Li's ear and he nodded and then sat down on a large rock. Beverly knelt down next to him. She reached into her med kit and Picard saw that she had brought nothing that looked especially advanced. Just bandages and basic medical tools along with some medicines. "Are you in pain?" she asked Li.

He just stared at her and then whispered, "God saved me from the Brethren." Next to her she heard Picard's boots shuffle on the holographic ground.

She smiled at Li and then reached out to wash his face with an antiseptic. He sat very still without objection. Then her gaze fell on the base of his neck and she saw small punctures tracking down beneath his clothing. They were healing, not completely scarred over, but certainly nothing that had happened within the last 24 hours. "What the-?" She turned and looked up at Rolani questioningly.

Rolani looked into her eyes and rolled up her own sleeve. There were hundreds of the same tiny punctures in her skin. "The Brethren take from us. And when we can give no more, we are Chosen to die."

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for reading, and take care. -PP**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

* * *

Beverly sat down beside Li on a holodeck generated rock and looked up at Rolani. "The Brethren did this to you both?" Beverly studied the injection marks on their attendants necks and then looked more carefully at the young woman and even younger man now that they were closer to her. Both dark haired and dark eyed with pale, sickly looking skin, they could have been brother and sister.

Rolani nodded. "What they have done to Li and myself, the Brethren have done to all of us. It has always been this way," she said. She waved to the other people who continued to kneel in the dust. "Come forward," she told them. "Come forward and show our god and his people what the Brethren have done to us."

Picard was about to protest, but Counselor Troi grabbed his arm and gave him a meaningful look. "Captain," she said in a low voice. "I know you don't appreciate the Tranan people's perception of you as being a god. But if that belief will allow them to be forthcoming with us, it could aid you in accomplishing your goal of finding out who these Brethren are...and the related question of what we are to do with the Tranan people you rescued."

Picard looked down at Troi, watching her closely. "Very well," he agreed quietly. "But I won't intentionally deceive these poor people."

Sheepishly the other Tranans walked forward, averting their eyes. They held out their arms and revealed their necks, which had similar marks and bruises. Beverly felt her neck and shoulders grow tense as they drew closer. They all bore a striking resemblance to one another. And all of them looked as though they had seldom seen any kind of sun, which seemed odd since they had probably resided in the rustic village she and Jean-Luc had walked through. She noted that the man who had fought with Rolani down on the planet's surface was still absent from the larger group.

Picard addressed Rolani. "Why have the Brethren treated you this way? Did they ever tell you why?"

Rolani bowed her head. "The ones who came before us...they always said that god would come...a god who resembles us in form. And he would take us away and destroy the Brethren, freeing us. And now we are safe with you, and the Brethren will feel your wrath."

"My wrath..." He muttered trailing off and glancing at Troi. Picard scratched his head. Rolani hadn't come close to answering his question, and he was unsure of how to respond to her statement. He could neither validate nor dismiss what Rolani was saying. It was her cultural belief after all; as outlandish and archaic as it seemed to him.

"Our god is not pleased," Rolani declared, taking in Picard's blank expression. "We must reveal ourselves to him to show our devotion." Immediately the entire group of Tranans began to strip off their meager clothing.

In less than a minute they stood naked, encircling Picard, Crusher and Troi.

The three Enterprise officers were speechless for a few moments.

Troi, who hadn't seen that many naked people together since her cousin's wedding, was the first to speak. "They appear very much human," she observed.

"Yes, they do," Beverly admitted. She looked over at the Captain. Instead of appearing embarrassed which is what she had expected, his expression was one of sadness. But only momentarily, and then his studied outer shell returned.

He held up his hand. "Please...all of this is not necessary for our benefit, Rolani. Please have them put their clothing back on."

"Do you wish the same for me?" She asked. Picard averted his eyes. There was an innocence to the way she spoke and seemed inherent in the Tranans' way of being.

"Yes," he said simply, still careful not to look at her. Clearly these were people who had been abused, and he did not want to be a reminder of the controlling or predatory behavior that they had come to expect from the Brethren.

Rolani bowed her head and then said something to the others which did not translate well, but they all began scrambling quickly to get back into their clothes, before kneeling down again.

"Does this please you more, god?" Rolani asked, looking up at him.

"Rolani, my name is Captain Picard," he said. "And I am not a god by any means, nor do I want to be."

"The ones who came before us said god would deny his identity to us at first, because we are unworthy. And so we must strive to gain his favor."

"Rolani," said Deanna, attempting to change the direction of the conversation. "The people who came before...do you mean your ancestors?"

Rolani frowned. "I do not understand."

Beverly smiled gently. "Your parents or other relatives. I had assumed that Li might be your younger brother. You appear so much alike."

Rolani shook her head in confusion. "I do not understand. The ones who came before us we knew only briefly before they were Chosen. When they became useless to the Brethren, they were Chosen."

"By 'chosen', you mean killed?" Beverly clarified.

Rolani nodded. "Yes. They are no more." Suddenly she began to cry and threw herself at Picard's feet, grasping at his pant legs. "Please, god," she whispered. "Don't let them take us."

* * *

"The Tranans' wounds are consistent with medical testing, Captain. If you'll allow me to examine them further, I may gain some clues about what the Brethren wanted with them." He just stared back at her stonily, which prompted her to add, "You have to let me do my job, Captain," in an attempt to give him less room to say no.

Deanna Troi was seated inside Beverly Crusher's office, hands clasped in her lap, silently watching the conversation between her two colleagues unfold. Both Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher continued to stand, as apparently neither officer seemed to want to give up any ground either physically or intellectually to the other.

"These people cannot possibly give anything resembling consent, Doctor. We shall have to find less invasive ways to learn just what happened to the Tranans."

"I'm not talking about conducting my _own_ medical tests, Captain. These would be simple exams."

"And what exactly is the difference?" he shot back.

"Well, for starters, I'm not the Brethren. I have these people's best interests in mind. And I'll be able to better assess their individual health status."

"The transporter's bio filter did its job and found no viruses or diseases," Picard said flatly.

"The fact that they aren't contagious, Captain, doesn't tell us what has been done to them-"

"It will have to suffice," he said shortly.

Troi covered a yawn. It was now officially past her bedtime. And yet, even as sleep beckoned, there was something fascinating about watching them argue. She had to get to know them of course; had to learn how best to relate to them both separately and together. Beverly Crusher, Troi had quickly learned was more comfortable with Troi alone than she was with the captain in the presence of someone else. She could only guess how they interacted in private, but if their current demeanor was any indication, they had a lot of work to do.

"Those people in there have been brutalized, Captain! We have a duty to help them," Crusher continued even more stridently.

"Of course I agree with you, Doctor."

"Really, Captain, is this your agreeable side?"

For a moment, Troi wondered if he was going to just turn around and walk out of Beverly's office. But he kept his feet firmly planted. "Doctor, if I didn't believe we had a duty to help the Tranan's, I surely would not have brought them on board my ship," he replied tightly.

"And now that they are here? Why did you stop talking with Rolani? She was trying to _explain_ to us what happened to them."

Picard reached out his arm and leaned against the wall, looking at her. "I'll resume my conversation with Rolani tomorrow morning, Doctor. Frankly she was talking in circles, and making little sense."

"She was making sense to me. Maybe instead you mean to say that you were so uncomfortable with her constantly referring to you as a deity, that you couldn't bear to listen anymore."

He glared at her. "Doctor, I did not say...nor did I mean to say that I was at all uncomfortable with the situation. And I'll ask you not to put words in my mouth."

Beverly crossed her arms defiantly. "I'm sorry, Captain...was it inappropriate for me to suggest that something could possibly have an emotional effect on you?"

Picard sighed, rubbing his brow and then glanced over at Troi for support. He was angry, she could tell, but inside his mind she could also sense that he was insulted. That someone he so respected would compare him to an emotionless robot, had hurt him. And yet, instead of conveying his hurt, he buried it, to the extent that he almost proved Beverly's point, simply focusing his gaze on the counselor.

Deanna stood up and used her best diplomacy to bring the conversation back to less personal territory. "So much has happened to the Trana survivors in just one day. As you said Beverly, they have been brutalized by these so-called Brethren. The trauma of that experience, and perhaps other cultural and religious reasons has made it difficult for them to clearly explain what has happened to them. But...I do believe that they are grateful to be here, and for the present time at least, they feel out of danger."

Picard nodded. "Good, I am glad they feel safe. But we need to try harder to communicate with them." He paused. "Counselor, I appreciate your contributions earlier on the holodeck; however... it is important that we focus on finding out who these Brethren are. Questions about the Tranan's familial ties and their religion should be avoided."

Deanna nodded. "I understand your concerns, sir. But don't you think the more we learn about the Tranan people, the more we will learn about these so-called Brethren?"

He sighed. "Point taken, Counselor. Still it's hardly appropriate for us to assume that they share the same societal constructions that we do."

"Such as?" Beverly demanded.

He turned to her. "You assumed that Rolani and Li were brother and sister."

Beverly laughed and put her hands on her hips. "They _look_ alike, for starters. And I don't have to be a physician to figure out that the Tranans probably reproduce like we do. Don't forget Captain," she said with a small smile. "They took their clothes off."

Picard simply glared at her, having no idea of a suitable response. Mercifully, his communicator beeped. "Picard here. Go ahead."

 _"Captain, Lieutenant Yar here."_

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," he prompted impatiently.

 _"Sir, the Ciapathian Security Chief-"_

"Reth's correct title is Chief of Arms, Lieutenant."

 _"Aye, sir. Well Reth has brought some kind of creature on board."_

"Yes, I haven't forgotten, Lieutenant," he said, recalling the four foot long hissing insect-like creature.

 _"Sir, initially we believed it was here for security purposes, but Chief of Arms Reth has clarified that it is his personal 'hunting companion'."_

"And?"

 _"Well...sir I don't see what purpose it serves being here, and it could be a security risk, Captain."_

Picard could feel his patience ebbing. "Until it does anything dangerous, Yar, we'll allow it to remain on board. We are assuming it is some kind of dangerous beast, when in fact we don't know a thing about this being. Your concerns are duly noted. Proceed with caution."

 _"But sir-"_

"Picard out."

He looked up to find Troi and Crusher watching him. Did he detect a bit of sympathy in Beverly's gaze? _Not likely_ , he decided, still annoyed by her earlier comments. "Now, if you will both excuse me," he said, "I have some administrative work to catch up on in my quarters." With that, he turned and left sick bay.

"Well, that was enlightening," Beverly remarked, watching him go, before turning to Troi. "Can I interest you in some hot chocolate before bed?"

Troi broke into a smile. "Yes, that sounds wonderful," she agreed.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

* * *

"I told you, I _don't_ want to be married, and I _won't_ do as you say anymore!"

Wesley Crusher slowed down just as a large pink suitcase slammed against the wall of the corridor, and tumbled to the floor spilling some of its contents. He could see it had been thrown quickly from the doorway of one of the guest rooms. Wesley took a step back as a beautiful young woman burst from the room. He recognized her as Ciapathian. He quickly activated the universal translator on a nearby wall computer station.

He hadn't expected any teenagers-at least she seemed like a teenager-to accompany the Ciapathian political contingent. Apparently not noticing Wes, the girl turned accusingly back to address someone inside the room, and this time, her words were understandable. "Father, I've had enough of this. I won't marry him and that is all."

A tall Ciapathian stepped from the room, and Wesley immediately froze, recognizing the man as Premier Fon, the Ciapathian leader. "You will not disappoint me, Hatha. Our family is the model for all of Ciapathia, and you _will_ fulfill your role."

"I will not!"

Wesley, despite the situation, and her belligerent attitude, was immediately captivated by the young woman. Still, he hesitated to intervene in the family argument.

Fon pointed sternly at his daughter. "Del has twenty-two devoted children; _twenty-two_ and I have just one ungrateful child-you! And to think the lengths your mother and I took to ensure you were born."

"Please spare me the details, Father," she said, bending low to begin picking up her belongings. It was then that she met Wesley's gaze and a small smile played over her face. Fon followed her gaze to find Wesley standing there and he didn't look at all happy. In fact Fon's expression was verging on hostile.

"Is everything alright here?" a powerful voice sounded from behind Wesley. He turned in surprise to find Captain Picard standing there, not having heard the man's approach. Picard put a brief hand on Wesley's shoulder before walking past him. "I heard shouting, Premier Fon. I do hope that your accommodations are agreeable enough."

Fon straightened. "Of course, Captain Picard. There is no trouble, I can assure you. My daughter Hatha was merely picking up her belongings. Teenagers are so clumsy at times."

"Yes, I'm sure," Picard said tersely, and shot Wesley a withering glance.

"Come Hatha," Fon said beckoning his daughter back into their guest quarters.

Hatha and Wesley stared at each other, but she followed her father, apparently giving up the fight for the moment.

Wesley watched as the two Ciapathians disappeared into the room and the door hissed shut. Presently he could feel the captain staring at him.

"A very pretty young woman," Picard commented, still giving Wesley a sideways glance.

"Huh? Yeah...I mean, yes sir."

Picard lifted his chin and fixed Wesley with his piercing gaze. "Mr. Crusher...I don't suppose that you are aware of the importance of this negotiation between the Federation and the Ciapathian government."

"Um...I guess so, sir."

"You _guess_ so?" Wesley's frightened expression caused Picard to soften his tone, but only slightly. "Mr. Crusher, you are a civilian, but as captain of this vessel, I have to caution you...do not use my negotiation as an opportunity to find your first girlfriend." Wesley opened his mouth to answer, but Picard turned on his heel abruptly and marched back down the hallway.

Wesley swallowed. "Yes sir," he murmured, as the captain disappeared around the corner.

* * *

Wesley had been unable to sleep nearly all night long, but now as it was time to get up for school he now decided he would prefer to remain in bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin and rolled onto his back smiling up at the ceiling. He couldn't stop thinking of the beautiful girl he had seen last night while wandering the corridors. Hatha had been her name, and he wished he could see her again soon.

But somehow, even in his haze, he was acutely aware that reading into her friendly glances, or ignoring the silent but threatening stares of her father- who just happened to be the leader of the Ciapathian people-was not a good idea. For one thing, he had happened upon a conversation between Hatha and her father in which Hatha had been talking about not wanting to get married to some guy; a guy who her father on the other hand, really wanted her to marry. What kind of society didn't allow people to choose who they wanted to marry, or who not to for that matter? Being who he was and where and when he was from, Wesley couldn't fathom it.

In addition, he had a feeling that Hatha was much older than him-she looked almost eighteen! Granted, she was from a different species, and who knew what the rules were when you looked at it in that way? But to make matters even more complicated, Captain Picard had only his negotiations with Hatha' s politician father in mind when he had pretty much warned Wesley not to even entertain the thought of making a move. Surely the captain had some idea of how fragile poor Wesley's ego was. It wouldn't be hard to discourage Wesley from pursuing Hatha romantically; not that Wesley was at all sure how to make a move if given the opportunity.

He sincerely doubted Captain Picard would ever be the one to give him any pointers either. He silently resolved to be more like Captain Picard when it came to everything, including women. He highly doubted that Picard had ever been stymied by a woman, and even if he had, he probably never let her know it. _Be more like the captain,_ he urged himself, trying to keep thoughts of his new infatuation at bay.

It was almost time for school. Wesley yawned, and finally rolled out of bed, stepping out of his bedroom. His mother was already on her way out the door, and was pulling on her blue lab coat. She turned to look back at him.

"Good morning. You were up for a long time last night...I saw your light was on late."

"Yeah," he mumbled as he replicated himself a bowl of cereal and a spoon to eat it with. "I had a lot of reading to do."

"Difficult homework?" Beverly nodded toward the data pad in his hand.

He shrugged and sat down at the table. The truth was, homework was never difficult for him. "Not really... just distracted, that's all," he replied. _Uh oh._ He instantly regretted uttering those words. Now his mother would not let up until she discovered what was bothering him.

"Distracted?" she said as if on cue, and placed her empty coffee cup down on the table. "By what?"

He shrugged again and shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, carefully averting his gaze from hers.

 _Of course he's met a girl._ Beverly kept her expression innocent, and certainly did not even come close to rolling her eyes at her son. But why did teenagers always think they were the first to have experienced _everything_? Beverly let out a short laugh before slinging her med kit over her shoulder. "Okay," she said easily. "Have a great day... I'll see you tonight at dinner then."

Wesley's eyes widened as he swallowed too much milk and it went down the wrong pipe. After coughing uncontrollably for a few seconds, he choked out the words "...at dinner?"

She turned back slowly to look at him with a curious yet amused expression. "Yes...remember I told you there will be a dinner tonight for the Ciapathian dignitaries and we're both going."

"I'm invited?"

"Well as a senior officer _I have_ to go. I'd like you to attend with me...but if you have other plans..." She raised an eyebrow.

Wesley put down his spoon and tried to appear dignified. He knew she was on to him, but he was still going to try and be discreet. _Think like Picard._

If he went to the dinner he would have the problem of trying to avoid both the stares of Hatha, (assuming she hadn't forgotten about him by then) the captain, and now his mother. "Are you sure the captain wouldn't mind me going?" He remembered the stern look on the captain's face the night before.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Besides, you're with me. If he has a problem with you being there, I'll leave too. Believe me... _that_ he would mind."

Wesley looked down at the table and tapped the handle of his spoon against the edge of the bowl before remembering how much that annoyed his mother.

Beverly walked back to the table and leaned on the back of a chair with her elbows. "Wes...did something happen with Captain Picard recently that I should know about?"

He looked up at her. "Not really."

She raised her eyebrows, but he remained stoic.

"Not really? What is that supposed to mean?" she prompted.

Wes shrugged and got up from the table. "If it's alright, Mom, I really don't want to talk about it. At least not right now."

She shrugged resignedly. "Okay..." Beverly watched her son walk out of the room, before she sighed and turned to leave their quarters.

* * *

When Beverly arrived in main sickbay for duty that morning, she could immediately tell that something was wrong. Most of her staff were milling around as if unsure of what exactly they were expected to do, with the exception of Doctor Selar who stood with her hands draped behind her back. The Vulcan physician's posture mirrored that of the figure who stood facing away from her, examining a wall monitor in silence. "I regret to inform you sir that this area is not authorized for visitors," said Selar. "Once again, please step away from the monitor or I will have to contact security."

Beverly approached Selar and gave her colleague a questioning glance.

"This person has been...exploring main sick bay for the last 15 minutes, Doctor," Selar informed her. "Although his jacket is affixed with a translation device, he has not spoken, and he has seemingly disregarded my attempts to converse with him," Selar added tersely.

Beverly walked closer to the very still individual. "Excuse me...I am Doctor Beverly Crusher and I happen to be the Chief Medical Officer on board this ship. And who might you be?"

She circled around in front if the person who she noted must be one of the Ciapathians. He appeared to have masculine characteristics, but as a doctor she was not one to presume anything. With a very slight build, his hair was jet black and slicked back, his skin was a bright pink, and he had a ridge of bone that started at the top of his forehead and disappeared underneath a very odd looking visual prothsesis. It was ruby red in color and unlike Geordi's Visor, covered the entire upper half of the alien's face.

The reply was a low guttural sound unfamiliar to her, but the translation was: "Forgive me, doctor. I am quite...unused to speaking with humans. My name is Doctor Petral."

Beverly forced a tense smile. _Yes, definitely one of the Ciapathians._ "Good to meet you, doctor. Now how may I help you?"

Doctor Petral turned slowly to face her and she had the distinct impression that she was being studied. "You are a female of the human species, are you not?"

Surprised at such a question, Beverly raised a protective hand instinctively to her chest. "I am..." She cleared her throat and glanced at Selar.

"And you also have males on board? I believe I have already met several of those."

"Yes," said Beverly simply. "But we do not refer to other human beings as 'those'," she said. "We refer to them as other people," she said, very aware of the edge in her own voice. _This is why I'm not a diplomat._

Seeming uninterested in human social requirements, Petral turned his visor to focus on Selar. "I did not know that humans worked so closely with other species. How fascinating."

"I agree," said Selar. "It is quite fascinating."

"It explains the remarkable progress of the human species," continued Petral coolly. "Collaboration can sometimes bring many technological, social, and scientific advantages, not achievable by a more isolated species. Diversification can also have the effect of eliminating many primitive traits."

" _Primitive_?" Beverly's eyebrows shot up.

"But your Vulcan species has a reputation for scientific advancement our people are eager to examine more closely," Petral said to Selar, continuing to ignore Beverly.

Selar straightened and lifted an eyebrow. "As you may be aware, Doctor, the Vulcan people now readily share our advancements with the other founding members of the Federation-most readily with humans, in fact."

Selar looked at her, but Beverly merely tilted her head in response, unsure if she wanted to inject herself back into this odd conversation.

Petral pointedly turned his attention back to Crusher, finding his visor on her face. Then he seemed to scan up and down her body, and she felt a sudden and specific kind of revulsion. "And you are of child-bearing age? Or are you still...immature?"

Beverly frowned, and then deciding to take it in stride, crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a thin smile. "Doctor Petral, in our culture, these kind of questions are...inappropriate. If you would like, however, I can offer you some scientific materials to read which will catch you up on human sexual function...as it seems to be an interest of yours."

"It is. And if sexual function is also of interest to you, perhaps we can have a discussion about this subject."

"Or perhaps not," said Beverly firmly.

Petral smiled oddly. "As an alternative, would you be willing to demonstrate?"

She shook her head, not believing what he was possibly asking. "Demonstrate..."

"Human sexual function. As I have conveyed I find the subject most stimulating."

Beverly now felt her face grow hot with embarrassed anger. She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but instead said: "Doctor Petral, you will have to satisfy your need for stimulation by accessing the ship's library."

"These questions bother you? But you are a scientist..."

Beverly glanced at Selar. "Doctor Selar...I need your assistance in recovery room one," she said coolly. Selar nodded, and Beverly turned briefly to Petral. "You will have to excuse us, Doctor Petral, but we're quite busy this morning. Please request permission from Captain Picard the next time you plan to visit sick bay."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"That's just it, Captain, I sense very little good will from the Ciapathians. Del is perhaps the most genial of any of them, and he simply does not want to be here. He seems...puzzled by the current administration's interest in joining the Federation, when the culture has largely been isolationist for so many years."

"They don't have to _like_ us, Counselor," said Picard. "This is a negotiation not a social function."

Deanna pursed her lips, but decided she had no appropriate response.

"What about Premier Fon?" Riker questioned. "He has very little to add...frankly sir, he seems disgusted to be in the same room with us. As the primary in this negotiation, that's more than a little surprising. It's almost easy to forget that the Ciapathians were the ones who initiated this meeting in the first place."

"Which begs the question: why are they here at all?" Tasha Yar interjected.

Picard's face took on a disagreeable expression, and he sat back in his chair heavily. "The answer I am _sure_ , is that the Ciapathians have more complex motivations than a simple longing to be members of the Federation." He sat forward and tapped his fingertips on the table. "My next meeting with Fon is in one hour. Counselor I would like you to be present with me. Something doesn't seem quite right, and I want to get to the bottom of it."

"Of course, Captain," Troi agreed, careful not to show her surprise that he seemed suddenly interested in enlisting her help.

Riker turned to Yar. "Any security issues of note?"

Yar hesitated, remembering the captain's irritation last time she mentioned the strange giant bug the Ciapathian security chief Reth had brought on board. "No sir."

Riker nodded. "Let's be subtle, but let's also keep a careful eye on our guests. I agree with Captain Picard...something is off about the Ciapathians." He glanced at the captain who didn't look impressed in the slightest by the can-do attitude of his first officer. Will crafted a patient look on his face and waited for his signal.

"Dismissed," Picard said, now studying his computer screen closely. "Oh, except you, Counselor," he said not bothering to look up, which still had the effect of halting Troi's rise from the table mid-way. She smiled slightly at Riker, who after a sympathetic wink, turned and left the room trying to match the quick footsteps of Yar.

* * *

Riker hummed a tune he had been trying to work out on his trombone, but standing alone in the turbo lift it sounded very silly to his own ears; so he stopped. At deck ten, Wesley Crusher stepped in. "Hi, Commander Riker."

Will looked down at the young man, clutching his school data pad and carefully avoiding eye contact. Intrigued, Will put his arm out and leaned against the wall of the lift."Halt," he said, and the turbo lift obeyed. He raised an eyebrow when Wesley glanced up at him with subdued alarm. "No school?"

Wesley held his data pad in front of himself and leaned back against the wall. "Yeah...but it's lunch time."

Riker nodded and crossed his arms, looking up at the ceiling. "Everything okay?" he lowered his gaze to Wesley.

Wesley froze. Was it that obvious? He shrugged, unsure of how much he should say to Riker. "Uh...I don't know if I should say."

Riker's grin widened. "Oh, you can count on me to keep a secret."

"It's not a secret," is what rushed out of Wesley's mouth before he was able to stop himself. "I mean..."

"Let me guess...it's about a woman, and you need advice." Riker spread his palms wide. "I'm here for you, lay it on me, Crusher."

Wesley explained what had happened the night before. Riker listened carefully and then started laughing.

Wesley reddened. "It's not that funny...besides, the captain seemed really serious when he said that."

Riker sobered quickly. _When doesn't he seem really serious?_ "Listen, the captain was just concerned that your relationship with Ha-what's her name again?"

"Hatha," Wesley said, feeling his face grow hot.

"The captain was just concerned that your relationship with Hatha would affect the negotiations with the Ciapathians. But, it doesn't have to, right?"

"I guess not," Wes admitted. "Meaning...you're saying I should...I should say something to her?"

Riker stared at him as though he had two heads. "No...I mean, not yet. You have to let her _see_ you first. And if she's interested, _then_ maybe you approach her."

"What?" Wesley blurted out. "How am I supposed to know that she's interested?"

Riker clapped Wesley on the shoulder genially. "Trust me, you'll figure it out. Deck twelve, resume."

 _No, I won't,_ Wesley thought sourly as the lift began to move once more. He tried to look as cool as possible when he said: "Any other advice?"

Riker rubbed his chin and studied the young man carefully. "Not to be shallow but...you've got to lose the sweater," he said, pointing at Wesley's drab brown ribbed sweater, which seemed not one, but two sizes too big for him.

Wesley nearly dropped his school pad, intent on defending his sweater from the first officer's harsh opinions. "Sir...haven't you noticed that every kid on this ship seems to be wearing a sweater like this?"

Riker nodded. "Mm-hmm. Sad, isn't it? But if you want to catch the eye of this young lady, Wesley, you can't be just every kid." The turbo lift halted again and the doors opened. Riker glanced back with a wink as he stepped clear. "See you at dinner."

* * *

Beverly washed a scrawny young girl's forearm with a mild antiseptic, while Rolani looked on with curiosity. Beverly smiled at the girl she was treating, hoping she wasn't scaring her, and wishing the captain would have allowed her to do more than deliver first aid to the Tranan refugees. "Who did this to you?" She asked the girl quietly, attempting to make eye contact.

This girl turned wide eyed to Rolani for permission, and Rolani nodded.

"The Brethren," the girl whispered.

"Hmm..." Beverly had heard this before. "And what do the Brethren look like?"

"They have no faces, and they shine bright lights on us. They tell us to lie still to make the sacrifice."

Beverly felt her face tighten with anger. "Is that when they do this?" She asked lightly running her hand over one of the dark puncture marks on the girl's skin. The girl said nothing, but stared up into Beverly's face.

"Your hair shines," the girl said. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

Beverly laughed and found herself spontaneously hugging the little girl. "Well I think you are beautiful too," she said, slowly releasing the child from her embrace.

She felt Rolani watching her and turned to look. "What's wrong, Rolani?"

"You are not god?"

Beverly shook her head, and sat back on her haunches. "No", she said simply.

"And yet you do not fear God. When he was here with us, you did not fear him."

Beverly wasn't sure how best to address the Tranan' s unshakable belief that the captain was their deity. "That's because when you take away our rank, which is a feature of our role as Starfl-as explorers I mean, we are equal to each other."

"Even though he is god," Rolani said skeptically.

Beverly sighed. "Captain Picard and I are both sentient beings. Neither of us has more rights than the other."

Rolani sat down next to Beverly on the holodeck generated ground. "When will god help us to destroy the Brethren?"

Beverly shook her head again. "I am sorry, Rolani, but that's not what we do. Our role is to explore. Sometimes we are forced to defend ourselves. But that is different from outright aggression."

"The ones who came before told us about god, and how he was to destroy the Brethren. Please do not speak lies to us."

Beverly stood up from her crouching position, no longer feeling welcome in this place. She thought about her disturbing encounter with Doctor Petral earlier in the day, and was again disgusted by his strange and intrusive behavior. She considered mentioning it to Deanna later, if she remembered. "I should go now," she said to Rolani. She glanced around and saw that Li, the young man who had attacked her in the caves was hunched over on the ground, rocking back and forth. She walked closer to him and glanced back at Rolani. "Is he alright?"

Rolani smiled proudly. "Li is preparing himself."

"For what?"

"To be an instrument for god...he will help to destroy the Brethren."

A slow chill worked its way through Beverly's abdomen, and she backed cautiously away. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Rolani...where is the man who disagreed with you down on Trana IV. The one who fought you?"

Rolani pointed to where a simulation of the caves on Trana IV stood in the distance. "He is there. He is being punished."

* * *

When Beverly exited the holodeck, she stood for a moment trying to collect herself before tapping her communicator. "Crusher to Picard. I need to see you right away, Captain."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

"But, Doctor, I am in the middle of a meeting...you cannot simply-"

 _"I'm on my way to see you right now, Captain."_

"Counselor Troi is with me," he said quickly. _Good Lord, I sound like a teenager, warning her that my parents are home. Steady yourself, Jean-Luc._

 _"Wonderful, I would love to hear Troi's opinion on this as well. Crusher out."_

 _Damn._ Picard cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. He examined the back of his hand for a few moments before Troi's all too perceptive gaze made him look up.

"Is something troubling you about Doctor Crusher's call, Captain?" Troi observed carefully after a moment. His reaction although silent was difficult and one she had now come to anticipate. _He's frustrated by my ability to read him so soon after we have begun working together. And he wants almost desperately to maintain a stable sense of professional decorum when it comes to Beverly; both externally and internally. And he's wondering if he should engage with me by answering this question, or deflect._

Picard now sat with his hands clasped tightly in front of him on the desk. _If she can read my thoughts, really what the hell is the point in trying to hide them?_ "Counselor, I am sure you are as familiar with my service record as I am with yours."

Deanna smiled serenely. "Yes, Captain. You have spent over half of your life on Starfleet vessels of one type or another. And I-"

"And you," interrupted Picard, "have very little experience serving on board starships. Not counting the three weeks you have spent serving on board the Enterprise," he said.

Deanna blinked. His tone was calm yet blunt. Not entirely certain what he was getting at she responded evenly. "Correct, captain. In fact my only previous postings were in diplomatic settings, on Betazed and most recently on Earth. My commanding officers were certainly not seasoned starship captains...but they were pleased with my performance."

"Yes...as I mentioned, I have reviewed your service record," he said mildly. "You are aware that the counselor position as a senior officer is a pilot program for the new Galaxy class ships, counselor."

She nodded. "Of course."

"Then you would agree that the success of this program depends largely on the two of us working well together...given that this ship will serve as the example for all others in this and many other areas."

She smiled inwardly. _Despite his discomfort at working so closely with a ship's counselor, he doesn't want this program to fail. Whether he actually believes in its usefulness, or simply does not want to feel a sense of personal failure, remains to be seen._

 _"_ Yes sir," she said. _But you still conveniently haven't answered my_ _question_ , she thought. "Captain, when I suggested that you seemed bothered by Beverly's call, I was only using my skills...doing my job. I assure you, I was not reading your mind."

"Counselor, you have read my service record, and so you probably have the misapprehension that I am somehow a scarred and burdened individual, unaccustomed to sharing his feelings, and who is subconsciously waiting to open up to the right counselor."

"And that couldn't be further from the truth?" She asked calmly.

His face stiffened. "My record is public, and my actions, as one would always hope, usually speak for themselves. However... I would ask you to understand that everything else which I am thinking or feeling is private, until I decide to express it publicly-or I decide not to, as the case may be."

"I see," said Deanna maintaining her serene smile. _He cannot possibly believe that we can serve together without ever telling me how he feels. Surely his mental well being is part of my professional concern, and yet he has no problem informing me that his intention is to shut me out. By setting almost immovable ground rules, he has unintentionally set us both up to fail._ "Captain, I think it is important for us to begin from a place of honesty..."

Picard was so surprised by that that he almost laughed out loud. "Counselor...are you suggesting that I am trying to _deceive_ you, because I am not interested in expressing my thoughts to you?"

"You still haven't answered my question from five minutes ago, Captain...about Doctor Crusher."

Picard scowled, and then he pushed himself up from his desk, walking away from the table. Abruptly he turned around. "I've known Beverly Crusher for many years." _And yet I still hardly know her. Perhaps Jack was all we truly had in common,_ he thought. "She would have come up to interrupt our meeting even had I ordered her not to."

Deanna shook her head. "But you didn't order her not to, sir. Why?"

He looked directly at her. "If she's coming to talk to me, it must be important," he admitted.

* * *

"Captain, are you honestly telling me that you intend to do nothing about this situation?" Beverly Crusher was never more adamant and intense than when she wanted the opportunity to take action herself, but was prevented from doing so. She pressed her palm on the edge of his desk, on the verge, he imagined, of pounding her fist. "That is unacceptable!"

Picard spread his hands wide. "What would you have me do, Doctor? Violate the Prime Directive again? If the situation is no longer tenable on board the Enterprise, we will find a new location for the Tranan people;after the negotiations have concluded."

"But Rolani said they were punishing that man...you saw what happened down on Trana IV. He simply has a different opinion than the majority-or Rolani. And if you ask me, she's starting to sound like a fanatic with this religious nonsense about you."

Picard raised his eyebrows, still looking up at her from his desk. "I see... so you no longer find a religion centered around me to be amusing?"

"That's not-"

"Beverly," Troi interjected calmly, and Crusher shifted her gaze away from Picard. "You mentioned before that you wanted to hear my opinion." Beverly's expression softened a bit and she smiled, sitting down next to Troi. Picard watched with mild irritation at the shift.

"Beverly, I understand your concerns, but you did not actually see this man being punished?"

"No, because as I mentioned, they had him hidden away in some holodeck cave. I have no idea what they're doing to him."

"Exactly," said Troi. "We have no idea what punishment even means to the Tranan people. Perhaps it is not violent or oppressive."

Beverly stared disbelievingly at Troi. "You've seen the injuries they sustained from the Brethren-beings they clearly fear and hold out to be superior to themselves. If their system of punishment is patterned after the treatment they've received from the Brethren, it can't be good."

"Now you're making assumptions doctor," said Picard.

"Which are based on my observations and the facts known to us."

He nodded. He didn't disagree with her, but again knew he was limited in his authority to control or even more subtly influence the Tranans. "Perhaps Rolani is not the model of leadership, according to Federation standards. The fact is, unless the Tranans are somehow presenting a threat to my crew, I cannot simply interject myself into their culture and overrule them."

"They already think you're a god..."

Picard laughed sharply. "I'm not going to entertain that train of thought any further, doctor. Let's not compound one problem by engaging with the Tranans in their fanaticism as you yourself have called it."

"Then what do we do?"

"Nothing. If you actually witness this individual being punished, doctor then you may bring me your account, and we shall reconsider the point of keeping the Tranans on board at all."

"You could come and see for yourself, captain..."

Picard leaned toward her. "Doctor, I am in the middle of important negotiations with the Ciapathians-"

She crossed her arms. "Perhaps you could convince them to stay out of my sick bay then," she said.

Picard glanced at Troi and then leaned forward again now truly confused. "What?"

Beverly lifted her chin. "A thoroughly obnoxious individual named Doctor Petral came into main sick bay this morning; in fact he was there before I arrived."

Picard got up from his desk slowly and paced over to the narrow view port. He turned back to look at Beverly. "Please go on," he prompted her.

"He appears to be fascinated by human beings, although he didn't have anything particularly positive to say about us. And then he started asking me all of these personal questions." She shifted in her seat, suddenly regretting raising the subject at all.

Deanna started to rise from her seat. "Perhaps I should go now," she suggested quietly.

"No, no," Picard said a little too hurriedly. "Please stay, Counselor," he said waving her back into her seat. Then he seemed to realize he had spoken too quickly. He turned to Beverly. "Of course, if..."

 _By the gods, he's actually showing some sensitivity_ , thought Troi as she returned to her seat.

"Yes, thank you," said Beverly quietly. "I would prefer if Deanna stayed." She cleared her throat awkwardly, and folded her hands in her lap. Beverly was unsure why she was having the reaction she was to Petral's visit, but there it was nevertheless.

Beverly was clearly disturbed by whatever had occurred, and it wrenched at his insides in a way he never would have expected. Picard crossed his arms and tried to adopt a softer tone, which he was certain was unsuccessful. "Please continue, doctor."

"After he left, actually after I asked him to leave, I found out that he had interrogated my staff about the same things..." She took a deep breath. "Dr. Petral made it clear that he is fascinated by human sexuality, even going so far as to say he was 'stimulated' by it. He asked me whether I was sexually mature, and if I would demonstrate."

Picard's eyes widened slightly and then he looked down at the deck. He honestly hoped Troi would inject something helpful into the one-way conversation.

"Demonstrate what?" Deanna asked.

Beverly gave her new friend a subtle but meaningful look. "Oh," said Deanna.

Beverly rubbed her arms, as though chilled. "There was something very disturbing about the whole thing. He was...repulsive. I know it sounds extreme, but that's how it felt to me. Petral seemed to be studying me...at least it felt that way..." She trailed off and looked across the room.

Picard walked away from the view port and sat down again. "Doctor," he said quietly, his brow knitted together with concern. "I regret that this happened to you, but I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. I can assure you that proper steps will be taken to ensure he stays away from sick bay for the remainder of this mission."

Beverly caught his gaze. Was he angry? If so, he was under complete control...of course he was. "Thank you, sir."

He leaned back. "Please consult with Counselor Troi as needed and the counselor will also speak with your staff as appropriate."

Beverly nodded and rose from her seat. She turned around again when she reached the doors, her hands clasped in front of her. She caught his gaze again, but her words would not come. She wanted to say something else, but whatever it was was buried with a long held emotion. So instead she exited the ready room without another word.

* * *

"Picard to Lieutenant Yar."

" _Yes sir?"_

"Please escort Premier Fon to my ready room."

Deanna strategically shifted her seating position to prepare for the negotiations. Meanwhile the Captain remained totally silent while she watched him carefully. _He is furious._

Just a few more minutes passed before Premier Fon entered the room escorted by Yar.

Yar stood by the door stiffly awaiting her next instruction. Picard nodded toward her. "Thank you, Lieutenant. Please have a security detail posted outside of all sick bays. Everyone seeking to enter must be a staff member or seeking medical care. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Yar replied curtly. She wondered briefly what had happened in sick bay to warrant an increased security presence, but she wasn't one to question the captain's judgment, nor was she one to stand around wondering.

"Dismissed."

Premier Fon watched the lithe young woman exit the room before turning back to Picard and Troi. "Why the changed venue, Captain Picard? I was prepared to meet in conference room one, not here," he said looking around him with generalized disdain.

"Change of plans, Premier," said Picard. "My apologies for any inconvenience caused." He stood briefly and gestured for Fon to sit down.

Fon glanced at Troi and then Picard who were seated on either side of him. Troi took in his elegant but arrogant posture. "Captain, I recommend that we start from where we left off yesterday."

Picard raised his hand with polite control. "Actually Premier, we've some preliminary business to get out of the way first."

Fon blinked in surprise. "Proceed then."

The captain leaned forward intensely, but kept his voice even. "What exactly is Doctor Petral' s purpose for accompanying you to these negotiations? Thus far his role has been unclear."

Deanna didn't need to see Fon flinch slightly in order to sense the sudden whisp of fear that traveled through his psyche. "Petral is our people's preeminent scientist. He was therefore given the honor of accompanying me in order to...observe human culture."

"To observe us...I see, so he serves absolutely no diplomatic role."

"One could say that," admitted Fon.

"Well, I _am_ saying it," said Picard. "The fact is, Premier, Doctor Petral, whatever his motives, went to our ship's main sick bay unannounced...and more importantly, uninvited. He then proceeded to interrogate _my_ crew in an attempt to elicit private information, which he has no business discussing with them."

Fon turned a lighter shade of pink. "Why was I not notified?" He demanded.

"No one was notified...least of all me. We're here to make a meaningful political connection between our two cultures, Premier. Doctor Petral' s activities this morning were highly offensive and counterproductive to that end."

Premier Fon shook his hand over the desktop in what appeared to be some kind of release of nervous energy. "Petral is an odd fellow, no doubt. But he surely did not mean-"

"I don't care what he meant, Premier. But I expect you to help me ensure that it does not happen again."

Troi closed her eyes briefly as the wave of fear passed through Premier Fon again.

"I am afraid, Captain Picard, that I am unable to promise you anything, when it comes to Doctor Petral."

"And why is that? He is your subordinate, is he not?"

Premier Fon's skin tone grew even paler. "I cannot say."

Picard and Fon glared at each other for a few more moments. "Keep Petral close by, Premier Fon, or he will quickly find himself banned from my ship."

* * *

 **Several Hours later...**

Premier Fon was the leader of his people, seemingly born to this role as the supreme ruler of Ciapathia; and yet he felt his control swiftly slipping away. He stood outside of the door, waiting for it to open. The individual on the inside of the room was in no hurry, no rush. Unlike Fon, he had no official title. He in fact did not need one. For everyone on Ciapathia feared this person; not least of all Premier Fon himself. Impatiently, Fon pushed a small device on his inner wrist. Momentarily the doors to Dr. Petral's guest quarters opened, and Fon walked boldly in.

As was typical of Petral, the lights were very dim. "Bring these lights up thirty percent," Fon said irritably.

"The computer will not comply with your wishes, as it has been programmed to obey mine," a gravelly voice floated from the darkness. "I prefer the darkness, Fon, you know that. I have no need for light."

"Your soul is lost in the darkness," Fon replied.

"No, Fon, your soul is the one which is lost...I have no soul."

"Picard wants you off of his beloved ship," Fon said shakily. "You insulted his medical officer with your ill behavior."

"My behavior, ill or not, will save the future of our race, Fon. Everything I do, as you know, has a purpose. Picard and his people are but a means...you know that, Fon." Dimly Fon could see a small figure approaching though the darkness. "Because you seem to fear the dark as much as you do me...I will change the lighting in this room, for your comfort, dear leader." Gradually the darkness was replaced by a ruby red hue, and Fon could now see that Petral was standing directly in front of him. He had removed his seeing device and the scarred area where his eyes had once been was now visible. Petral smiled. "Is that better, dear leader?"

"Do not call me that," Fon snarled, briefly replacing his fear with anger at Petral's insolence.

"Very well. Why are you here?" Petral demanded with quiet confidence.

Fon clasped his hands in front of him tightly. "It is my daughter. Hatha does not consent to marry you. And I will not force her."

Petral's face was expressionless. "You imply that either of you has a choice in the matter. You will give your daughter to me, or I will take her like all of the others before her."

Fon tightened his jaw. "I will not concede. You have become too powerful, Petral."

"And you have quickly outlived your usefulness. We will resume this conversation later. I must dress for dinner."

Fon stood his ground. "Picard suspects nothing," he said in a low voice.

"Good," said Petral. "Once the preparations have been made we will make our Ascension."

Fon felt his breath quicken. "I am uncertain if I still believe that our people are ready for the Ascension. Perhaps it is too soon."

Petral walked forward. "Do you intend to be remembered as the Premier who betrayed his people, sending us all to our doom? Will you reveal the truth to Picard? Fifteen of your most powerful ships await their orders. I am curious to know your answer. Perhaps you simply intend to reveal the truth to your rival Del...in all of his ignorance, he may still care."

Fon trembled with rage. "How dare you accuse me of treachery, you worm. You will not touch my daughter! As long as I live, I will protect her from your evil."

Petral watched the still enraged Premier leave. "Then you will not live for long," Petral promised the empty room.

* * *

 **What's up, Readers? If you are reading my story "A Full Circle", I should be posting something more tomorrow. Thanks for tuning in. -PP**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Commander Riker slowed when he saw Yar briefing a security team outside one of the minor sick bays. He waited for her to finish what seemed to be a very intense pep talk, and allowed her officers to disperse before he interrupted. "What's going on, Lieutenant?" he asked, taking her aside. "Why wasn't I informed of increased security presence?"

Yar nodded. "The order came straight from the captain, sir. He didn't give any explanation...but he seemed concerned."

Riker kept his facial expression even and gave her a wordless nod. It certainly wasn't Yar's fault that Captain Picard apparently had about zero trust in him, or apparently not enough to bother to mention his concerns to Riker.

"Such precautions...you would think you believed us to be enemies."

Riker and Yar interrupted their conversation and turned around to find the Ciapathian security chief, Reth, standing nearby. It irked Riker, and probably Yar too, that he was so tall they had to crane their necks to look up at him. In one enormous red arm, he held a metallic walking staff, which was planted solidly on the deck next to him. In the other hand he held a loop of energy, which was attached to the immense insect-like creature Reth had referred to as his "hunting" companion.

Riker's eyes narrowed. "Is that a weapon you're carrying there, Reth? Because friends don't typically carry those around in the midst of other friends."

"Are you referring to this?" he picked up the staff and it immediately retracted into the palm of his hand. "Or this?" he nodded toward the insect, which focused a pronounced hiss at the two Starfleet officers.

"Both," Riker and Yar said at once.

Reth laughed. "You are right, Riker. We are not friends...but we are not enemies...yet." He knelt down and placed his large palm on the hard shell of his insectoid companion. He stroked its black armor almost lovingly. "This noble being...she is my only true friend." He broke into a grin, leering at Riker and Yar. "When she wants to ensnare you, none can escape her charms."

"Sounds lovely," Yar murmured. The insect hissed and wagged its head back and forth.

Reth laughed again. "I like you two. I have never met humans before now. You exceed my expectations...which in a way also saddens me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Reth rose to his full height and strolled away. "I will see you tonight at the feast," he called back over his shoulder.

Riker shook his head and glanced at Yar. "I don't like any of this, Tasha. Not at all."

Yar nodded seriously. "Agreed, sir."

* * *

Beverly Crusher needed a shower. Not a sonic shower, but one with actual hot water. Multiple holodeck injuries, and two births had made for a hectic day. Before today, she'd only assisted in the birth of a Bolian baby once several years ago. And although everything had gone fine, the whole event reminded her that out here, she would need to brush up on, well everything really-in particular, non-human anatomy and epidemiology. A ship's doctor could never be too prepared, an old mentor had once lectured her. After the Tsiolkovsky epidemic, which she worried had not inspired the utmost confidence in her or her staff, she knew they all had to do better. And she would be the one to set the standard.

When she arrived at her quarters it was nearly 1800 hours. Dinner would start in about a half an hour, and really Beverly was uninterested in attending. After the encounter with Petral and a long day of work she felt tired and uneasy. She had decided to sneak out of dinner after making a brief appearance. Of course, Wesley wouldn't want to be there in the first place, and he would certainly be her most likely excuse for leaving early. She didn't want the captain to believe she was shirking her duties, but she also had little use for diplomatic functions, and figured that it was better that he learn that fact now rather than later.

The common living area was dark, and it occurred to her that Wesley had probably arrived home from school and then fallen asleep. After all, he had been up all night the night before. She checked the time again. She hardly had time to get dressed in that constricting dress uniform. She began to get annoyed that she wouldn't have time for a leisurely shower and now she would have to tell Wesley to hurry it along.

"Wesley," she called out, only mildly bothered by the fact that she was probably waking him up from a comfortable nap. He wasn't about to get out of this one, if she had anything to say about it. She stood outside his bedroom door. "Wes? I need to use the shower and we don't have much time before dinner...sorry honey, but-"

Beverly jumped back startled and there stood her son. Her hand flew up to her mouth in surprise, but also to keep from laughing in his face.

"Wes?"

He was dressed in an old style black and white tuxedo, and she had to admit it was an improvement over the usual bulky sweater. "Wow, I mean...I'm really speechless, Wesley."

He stepped out of his room to face her and brushed off his tuxedo jacket. "Mom, do I look ridiculous? Please just tell me the truth."

"No, you don't look ridiculous at all...you just look so grown up!" She wiped at a tear which was threatening to emerge from the corner of her eye.

"Mom!"

"And handsome," she corrected herself immediately. "You look great."

His face relaxed visibly. "Thanks. Is that all?"

She studied him more closely. "Not to ruin your... vibe, but Wes you're a bit overdressed for this dinner," she said gently."Just who are you trying to impress anyway?"

He looked away and then down at his feet. "Um...a girl."

Beverly pursed her lips, and tried to appear as judgment-free as possible. "I see..."

"You're not going to be weird about this, are you Mom?"

" _Weird_? Who's weird?" She walked toward him and adjusted his tie, but it was still lopsided. She laughed as he began to squirm. "Wait! Let me see if I remember how to do this," she said, untying it and starting over.

"I hope so," he mumbled. "Or Commander Riker is going to laugh me out of the dinner. He already thinks it's a big joke."

She had just finished tying the tie, and then patted him on the chest. "He'll do no such thing...and what do you mean he already thinks it's a big joke?" she asked suspiciously.

"He was giving me advice...see the girl I met, she's a Ciapathian and-"

Beverly stepped back. " _What_?" _Of course, Beverly, what other people Wesley's age would be at that dinner? Probably one of Del's twenty-two kids. Just take it in stride,_ she urged herself silently. "What exactly did Mr. Riker _advise_ you to do?"

"He...he told me to lose the sweater."

Beverly tossed her hands up. "I haven't see one kid on this ship who hasn't worn a sweater like yours."

" _Exactly_ his point, Mom. He suggested I be a little flashier."

Beverly rolled her eyes. "I can just hear him saying so...look Wesley it is very important to remember that if someone is attracted to you, that person is going to be attracted to you for other reasons than your clothes...if it's something that is going to last, that is. So, I want you to have fun, but please be realistic as well as a little cautious. The Ciapathians are only going to be here for another week at most..and we don't know anything about them, Wes."

"I know Mom. Don't worry. I'll use my common sense, like you taught me."

She smiled at him. _Common sense has very little to do with attraction, and certainly not love. But he'll have to learn that part on his own._ "Good," she said, and drew him into a hug. She sniffed in twice and then pulled back to look at him. "Are you wearing cologne?" Her nose wrinkled. "A little heavy handed there, Wes."

He sighed, and didn't appear to agree. "It's too late to take another shower," he said with a shrug.

"Shoot," she said spinning around. "I have to take a quick one before we go." Instantly she was now thankful for the simple dress uniform she would be wearing. She didn't have time for anything else.

"Mom," Wesley called after her.

"Yes?" She turned back around, just as she reached the bathroom.

"Thanks...now I don't feel so worried about seeing the captain."

Beverly froze. " _He'_ s involved in this? Don't tell me you asked him for advice too!" _Actually that would have been interesting to hear..._

Wesley suddenly looked terrified. "No! I mean, not exactly. He told me not to go looking for girlfriends...or something like that."

She put her hands on her hips. "Oh he did, did he?"

"Yeah. I think he's worried I am going to mess up the negotiations or something."

She gave a short laugh in the direction of the ceiling. "I'll bet."


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

Captain Picard arrived in the banquet hall to find it already teeming with Ciapathians, and junior officers finishing the preparations. He looked around at the decorations in the hall, which he had to credit the operations staff for arranging. Still, it seemed quite odd indeed to have an actual banquet hall on board a star ship. He wondered what Jack Crusher and Walker Keel would say to such a thing. Imagining his old friends' reactions made him smile, but then a tugging at his hand made him look down and his smile abruptly faded. A small Ciapathian child was tugging at his hand and jumping up and down excitedly. He could understand just parts of what it was gurgling at him through the universal translator on his communicator.

"Picard!" Representative Del was striding over to him. "That is my youngest child Del the Eleventh," said the Ciapathian. It was the first time, Del seemed completely jovial and unguarded. He was in his element with all of these children, as much as Picard was out of his element.

"Oh," Picard grumbled, shaking the little boy's hand. "How do you do?"

The little boy gurgled something else up at him, and Picard laughed nervously turning back to Del. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what your son is saying..." he looked down again and the boy had now balanced on his foot, and was yanking his hand up and down in a ridiculous motion. He glanced around the room but no one seemed to have noticed his immense discomfort, which to him had now ballooned to fill the entire room.

"Oh!" Del laughed heartily and clapped Picard on the back. "Little Del would like to sit on your lap, at least for part of the dinner."

"Is that quite what he said, though?" protested Picard politely. "I thought I heard him saying something about needing to use the bathroom."

Del laughed again and shook Picard by the shoulder. "We shall see, we shall see..." He started to stroll away toward one of his multiple wives, and Picard tried unsuccessfully to follow, as Del Junior was still latched to his right leg.

"Del...no we shall _not_ see. I have-I have no experience whatsoever with children, and are you not concerned you might be taking a risk leaving your son with me..."

"Ha, ha...I thought you were a brave ship's Captain...now in my culture this kind of thing is truly an honor. Now if he starts to fuss just jiggle him on your knee. He'll calm down soon enough," Del called back to him.

"Ow! _Must_ you do that?" he said through gritted teeth as the child attempted to take a bite out of his hand. "Come now," he said as gently as possible, shaking drool off his palm. "Let's go and sit down." He noted with considerable distress that another of Del's children was already sitting in his chair.

* * *

"Mom, just let me go in first, by myself," Wesley practically begged his mother as they reached the outside of the banquet hall. He was sweating right through his tuxedo shirt and it only had the affect of making his cologne that much more noticeable. Maybe his mother had been right after all. _Oh well, too late._

"I get it-you don't want to be seen with your mother. But trust me, I should go in first. If something goes wrong, I can always create a diversion," she offered cheerfully.

Wesley smoothed his hair back and watched as she preceded him into the room. "She's having way too much fun with this," he murmured.

* * *

When Beverly stepped into the room, she had expected to engage the Captain in one kind of argument or another in order to distract him from Wesley's tuxedo-given that he apparently disapproved of Wesley's new love interest. But instead she noted that he was already highly distracted, and that not one, but two bright pink Ciapathian children were crawling all over him. As she approached, she saw that another child, slightly older than the other two was seated next to him and was attempting to converse with the captain.

"Do you like to fly ships?" the little girl was asking him.

"Mmm hmm, yes," he answered for the fourth time.

"My father has no ship, but he owns an entire city."

"Well...good for him," Picard said, trying to pry one of Del's sons from his neck, while the little boy Del XI was still wriggling on his lap. Finally, he was saved, partially when Del's third wife came over to remove the dangling child (who he guessed was named something like Del the Tenth) from his neck. "Ah, thank you," he sighed as she hurried away.

"My father is Del," the little girl sitting next to him said brightly.

"Ah..." he said. "And what is your name then?"

"Del," she said as if the answer was obvious.

Picard frowned and drank from his glass of water. "Yes, well...I suppose I should have seen that one coming."

"Huh?" she asked.

Picard was about to respond when his eye caught on a familiar person approaching. He didn't know whether it was appropriate to be suddenly so happy that Beverly Crusher was headed straight for him, but he _was_ happy. Perhaps she would agree to free him from the writhing child on his lap. All things considered she appeared to be in good spirits, which was a positive change from earlier in the day.

As if on cue, Doctor Petral entered and quietly seated himself across from Premier Fon some distance down the long table. At Fon's side was his beautiful teenage daughter, who Picard had seen in the halls of the ship the previous night. She stayed close to her father and looked decidedly unhappy. Riker, and the rest of the bridge crew entered as a group and found seats around the table. The seating was informal, as the point in Ciapathian culture was simply to eat and talk if the need struck. It was the first aspect of Ciapathian culture that Picard felt he could clearly relate to.

* * *

He smiled up at Beverly as she walked closer and sat down adjacent to him. "Hello, Doctor. Please join me."

Beverly sat down and placed her chin in her palm, looking at him with amusement. "Seeing you in this light...so relaxed with a young child on your lap-"

"I am hardly relaxed," he said tightly, his smile cracking slightly. "Relaxed is really not the word I would use, Doctor," he insisted as she continued to watch him with a strange expression.

She picked up a carrot stick and bit into it, pointing the chewed end at him as she crunched noisily. "Still...seeing you like this, well it makes formality seem kind of silly."

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know what you mean."

"I _mean_ , at least during dinner, please call me Beverly."

He sighed and unconsciously jiggled the boy on his knee. "Very well Beverly."

"See? That wasn't so difficult. And so now naturally I'll call you Jean-Luc," she added smoothly.

He could think of no immediate objection, and in any case, young Del the Eleventh slapped him in the throat at that very moment.

"Del!" shouted his older sister, also named Del. "Stop hurting the captain. He's letting you sit on his lap...you know father never allows you to sit with him, so you're very lucky. Don't ruin it for the rest of the children who might want a turn, Del," she scolded her brother.

 _"What?"_ Picard shook his head and closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened his eyes, Beverly was silently laughing at him behind her elegant hand. "Finding this quite funny, aren't you?" Annoyed by her amusement at his expense, he carefully switched the boy to his right knee, at the same time shifting his gaze to the door.

"Oh _good_ lord," he murmured as Wesley Crusher walked into the room. _It's as though I am re-living every awkward teenage moment from my own youth all at once._ He rolled his eyes toward Beverly, who to his surprise looked absolutely proud.

She glanced at him. "Did you have something to say about my son? Perhaps you would like to compliment the very stylish tuxedo he is wearing?" she asked, taking a leisurely sip of her wine.

Picard pulled the child to him for protection. She watched him expectantly, but he wisely remained silent.

Beverly watched as Wesley made eye contact with a young woman sitting next to Premier Fon. He sat down next to Geordi, but Beverly could still see that the young woman was giving Wesley the eye. It looked innocent enough, but it made her react in a way she hadn't expected. She felt suddenly protective of Wesley. He was still such a young person and naive in many ways. She was pleased to see that Riker was not laughing at her son, but when she turned back to Picard, she felt a little less sure of herself than before. "Wesley's...that young woman is Premier Fon's daughter?"

"Yes," Picard said quietly.

"Great," she said, as she sighed and took a longer sip of wine.

Picard started to chuckle, and Beverly turned to look at him. "What is it, Jean-Luc?"

"I was just noticing...how much Wesley is starting to look like Jack."

Beverly put down her glass. "Yes he is," she admitted, looking at him searchingly.

He was still looking at Wesley who was chatting with Data and Geordi about some kind of warp theory. "And yet, he's very much like you," he said in a far off voice.

She straightened and looked at him. "Really? You think so?"

He nodded. "Oh yes...he's very thoughtful, principled...brilliant of course..."

She paused. "How wonderful that you've noticed those things in him. I can't say that I can take credit for them but-"

"Oh but you can, and you should," he said, his voice suddenly full of emotion as he met her eyes.

She didn't look away from him, but smiled somewhat tensely as a familiar nervousness crept inward. "Alright," she agreed. "If you do something for me," she said quietly.

"Hmm?" He blinked, as he felt her palm slip onto his knee, which he had been mindlessly using to bounce Del the Eleventh up and down. His breath caught in his throat, feeling the firmness of her fingertips through his uniform.

"Please stop jiggling that poor child on your knee," she said with a real glimmer of amusement as she took in his startled expression.

* * *

 _Her hand rested on his knee lightly at first, but then it began to inch its way upward, before slipping around to his inner thigh. Her fingers caressed his leg so gently. "Jean-Luc," was all she kept saying, but the sound of her voice and the touch of her hand were enough to send him toward the edge. He didn't know whether he should stay there, or get up from the table. "Jean-luc," she said. "I need you." So he decided to stay and see if things progressed. Of course it was inappropriate. There were so many people there...and she had never behaved in this manner before. But if he didn't give in now, he might never have the chance to be this close to her again. No he didn't even care if he would regret it later. "Jean-Luc...I need you."_

* * *

"Ah!" He sat up in his bed, soaked in sweat. He dropped his forehead into his hands. A damn dream. How pathetic. He sat there for a moment more before realizing that his communicator was buzzing next to him on the night stand. The clock said it was midnight. _"Jean-Luc...it's Beverly. I need you to come to sick bay right away._ _There's something incredible...something important I need you to see. It's about the Tranans."_


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

 **Deck Three around midnight**

"I'm telling you, Data, there is no such thing as 'acceptable parameters' for a power drain. And if I hear Argyle say something like that again, I'm going to recommend to Captain Picard that he appoint a new Chief Engineer."

"Geordi, I do not believe that Lieutenant Commander Argyle appreciated your suggestion that he throw his 'whole diagnostic method out of the closest airlock'."

"Well...I don't appreciate his diagnostic method."

"Similarly, I do not think he would appreciate you suggesting that the captain replace him with another officer."

"Data...sometimes I feel like that guy is in _my job._ You know what I mean?"

"No, Geordi, your meaning escapes me. Your job duties consist mainly of-"

"Of flying the ship...I know, Data! And shouldn't I worry that Captain Picard is going to think that's all I am capable of? I know ambition is a human trait, Data, but stay with me here."

Data immediately dropped his gaze to his feet which were walking almost perfectly in time with Geordi's. Then he realized his friend was not speaking literally. "I am still with you, Geordi. However, we have only been on board the _Enterprise_ for several weeks. Perhaps you should give yourself additional time to demonstrate your abilities to Captain Picard."

Geordi slowed as they reached the turbo lift. "Data this might be a little off topic...but has Tasha said anything to you, about me? You know, since the Tsiolkovsky epidemic last week..."

"No."

"Nothing at all? Not even about something awkward I might have said during that whole...thing?"

"No."

Geordi watched Data closely. "Would you tell me if she had said something about me?"

"No," said Data.

" _What?_ Data, we're friends."

"But I am also friends with Tasha," said Data. "So even if in theory she had said something about you, Geordi, I would be prevented from telling you for ethical reasons."

"Huh," said Geordi. "So the same ethical protections apply to me then, right?" Data nodded. "Well in that case, don't mention anything I just said...okay?"

"Okay." Data nodded again and stepped on to the turbo lift. "I am scheduled for the midnight shift on the bridge," he said. "Good night, Geordi," he said as the doors shut.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow." LaForge gave Data a small wave and then he stood there for a few more moments, thinking about how to boost the power efficiency without the Chief Engineer noticing. Suddenly he heard at least two pairs of footsteps racing down an adjacent corridor; and something else he didn't recognize. Realizing he was near the Ciapathian guest quarters, he hesitated. But after hearing one person shout out in a non-human language, instinctively he ran toward the commotion.

* * *

Picard stumbled out of bed, palming his communicator and trying to steady his breathing. He shook his head, angry at the failure of his subconscious to demonstrate even a shred of self control while he was sleeping. Of course, he admitted that his dream life was considerably less constrained than his daily life, in which his self-control ruled everything. "Doctor, I'm not dressed...I've been sleeping."

 _"Don't worry about it, Jean-Luc," she said. "Your secret will be safe with me...and the two late shift nurses on duty. I'm in the minor sick bay on deck three. I'll see you soon?"_

"Yes. Picard out." He sighed, and wrapped a robe quickly around himself. He didn't have time to change. His pajama pants would have to do for now, as she was insisting on seeing him right away. _I need you._ He closed his eyes, and he heard her voice in his head. Then his eyes snapped open and he tried to leave the dream behind in his room as he exited his quarters.

Beverly was determined to call him by his first name, which would only lead to increased familiarity between them. This could create problems among the crew if they sensed that he somehow tolerated anything less than professionalism. He would have to either nip it in the bud, and tell her to use his title, or suggest a compromise. Deep down he knew that maintaining decorum every second of the day was hardly worth her deciding to stop speaking to him at all, which is what she would likely do if his request irked her as he suspected it would. " _Why are you doing this?"_ he imagined she might ask with barely contained outrage. _"We've known each other for years, Jean-Luc..."_ And he would respond to the effect of: _"Doctor, I'm your commanding officer. It's simply not appropriate."_ At that point, there were any number of responses she could offer, and in his imagination none of them ended well for him.

The bottom line was that this was just the beginning of a professional relationship that he knew they both hoped would last for a long time. They had to learn how best to work together.

He shrugged mentally. He would let her have it her way. Using her first name didn't have to mean anything more significant than the fact that they had known each other for years, had spent many of those years apart, and now were getting to know each other again. That was all. He had to separate Beverly Crusher the professional person, and his subordinate in rank, with the woman who, in his private moments, invaded his thoughts. It was crucial that she did not see this division within him, this emotional weakness. It was equally important that she did not gain the impression that he did not respect her as a professional person.

These things, he told himself, were far more important than a long suppressed attraction. At that very moment he had to struggle not to allow the thought to creep through-the one that always did: had she, perhaps long ago...ever felt as he did? It was the unanswered question, was the one which left him in a quiet and sometimes oddly comforting loneliness as he stared up at the ceiling each night. It was the question that had never been asked out loud, to which the most primal and neglected part of him desired that the answer was yes.

* * *

"There you are," she said impatiently, waving him into sick bay. She hadn't exaggerated about there only being two nurses on staff that night. It was very quiet, and all of the bio beds were empty. He glanced around, surprised that he found the space so unfamiliar. Granted the ship was new, but he'd stepped inside this smaller sick bay perhaps only once since coming aboard.

"Look, we're a match," she said with a soft smile as he approached.

"Hmm?"

She looked him up and down and then gestured at her own clothing. It was then he noticed that she was wearing the exact same plain dark blue bathrobe that he was. Of course, all of the senior officers had been issued one. "We match," she repeated with a smile.

"Oh," he said, smiling now too. "Yes of course."

"I couldn't sleep," she said quickly. "Something was just...needling me. And so I came here, and remembered something I should have done yesterday." She nodded at one of the nurses, and then moved swiftly past him down a hallway. When she reached her destination she turned back to him. "I'm sorry to wake you, Captain, but I really thought you should see this."

She waved her hand over the door lock and walked into a large laboratory ahead of him. The lighting was so low, that he nearly bumped into a table. "This way," she said, putting her hand on his upper back to guide him. He immediately tensed and she dropped her hand to her side. She looked at him in the low light and then to his surprise she reached out to touch his forehead with the back of her hand, as if checking for a fever. He resisted the urge to spring backward into a table full of lab supplies to escape her touch.

"Are you feeling alright? You're perspiring," she said abruptly and it almost sounded like an accusation. He merely shook his head. "I thought you said I woke you," she pressed him, sounding bemused. He blushed and was thankful for the low light.

"I was-I mean, you did wake me," he said, correcting himself. "I suppose I rushed to meet you here," he said, and it was half true.

She shrugged. "Increase lights to sixty percent," she ordered the computer and it complied. "We don't want it too bright in here or it will be hard to see it."

"It?"

She pointed to a microscope. "You'll need to look through the scope. Just let me get it adjusted," she said, putting her face forward into the viewer of the scope. The instrument made a few whirring sounds.

He watched her gazing into the microscope, and twisted the fluffy belt around his waist, feeling silly and vulnerable without his uniform. "Beverly," he ventured.

He watched her smile into the microscope. "Yes, Jean-Luc?"

"About _that_..."

"About _what_?"

"I've been thinking about this, and have concluded that it's more appropriate for me to use your professional title, and for you to use mine." He clasped his hands behind his back, waiting tensely for her reply.

 _Oh boy._ She stood up straight and stepped away from the microscope, turning to him. "By more appropriate, you mean, you don't want me to stop calling you Captain in front of the other crew members...right?"

"Yes," he said, feeling his body relax a bit. She wasn't angry with him. He dropped his hands back to his sides.

"That's fine, of course I don't want people to think I don't respect your rank," she said easily.

"But it's alright...it's fine of course when we're in private," he responded, and immediately was not sure why he had. If he had been able to properly kick himself, he would have done so.

Her expression changed immediately to one of surprised curiosity. "Private...like right now, you mean. We _are_ alone after all."

"No...your staff is in the next room," he objected quietly.

"And yet, I doubt anyone would hear you if you decided to call me Beverly," she said with a soft smile.

Picard felt his body tense again inexplicably. "I'm quite serious about this Beverly," he said firmly, taking a step backward.

"Of course," she said turning back to the microscope. She fell silent for about five seconds, then said: "So if your robe was to fall open just slightly enough to be inappropriate, should I say 'Captain, your robe is open', or is it alright if I use your first name?"

He looked down sharply, and pulled the robe closed to cover his chest. "You might have mentioned it earlier," he said, feeling his neck grow hot with embarrassment.

She adjusted the microscope, still peering into it. "I wasn't sure of the rules," she said. "But now I know. There," she said pulling back with a smile. "Now you can take a look... Jean-Luc."

* * *

 **12:30 AM**

The front door kept beeping, and for some reason his mother hadn't gotten up to answer it. Wesley walked out of his room and expected to find the door to his mother's room closed; but it was open and she wasn't there. "Mom?" he called out, but she was nowhere to be found. The door beeped again. "Okay, I'm coming," he said in a louder voice. "Open," he said, and the doors hissed open to reveal Hatha. Wesley's eyes widened in the kind of surprised moment you have when you wish time would slow down order to figure out a plan. But none was forthcoming.

Hatha said something completely unintelligible to him, but it sounded desperate. "Wait here," he urged her and ran to the coat rack where his mother's blue lab coat hung. He quickly ran his hand along the front of the coat and snapped off the com badge. Racing back to the door, he switched the communicator to the universal translator feature.

"You have to help me," Hatha said, pushing past him into his quarters. She turned around quickly. "I've noticed you...but I don't know your name."

Wesley tried to stand up taller. "I'm Wesley...but you can call me Wes...or whatever you want to..." he mumbled noncommittally as she began pacing around the living room wordlessly.

"There has to be some way off of this ship and out of the sector," she said. "Run away with me? My name's Hatha, by the way."

"Uh...run away?" Alarm bells started going off inside Wesley's brain. This girl was completely crazy. Beautiful and crazy.

"Maybe we can steal a shuttle?"

With the emphasis on crazy.

"No, no...we can't do that," he said quickly. _Channel your inner Picard,_ he told himself. "Hatha, why don't you sit down and we can try and talk this through calmly?"

She looked around wildly when he tried to guide her to sit down at the table. "Are your parents home?"

He shook his head. "My Mom's not here. Probably delivering a baby or something," he said with a shrug. "She's a doctor," he added, not knowing what else to say.

She sighed, and dropped her face into her hands. "I have to get out of here. I can't marry him."

He sat down slowly next to her. "I heard you last night, you know when you were arguing with your father. Why won't he listen to you?"

"It's my role. If Petral selects me, then I must marry him."

Wesley felt a wave of disgust. He had seen Doctor Petral at the dinner, and he never would have guessed that he was the one Hatha was supposed to marry. But now he knew why she wanted to run away. "So he just _chooses_ someone and they don't have any choice in the matter? That's not right," he said with growing disbelief.

"The Ascension is not right or wrong...it just is."

"What's the Ascension?"

"I don't know," she said. "My father says that the Ascension is our future, but no one actually tells us what it is. All I know is that it is the justification for why Petral collects wives.

"Collects...you mean he has more than one?"

She closed her eyes. "It's normal in our society to have multiple spouses. But when Doctor Petral takes a wife, she eventually disappears...forever."

* * *

"Can you see it?" Beverly asked.

Picard strained to look into the microscope, but couldn't focus on any one part of the swirling figure in front of his eyes. "Not if I'm expected to know what the hell I'm looking at," he murmured.

She patted him lightly on the back and he tensed under her hand. _So jumpy._ "Here, stand back, I'll project the image," she said patiently. He stood up and moved aside.

A holograph of the microscopic detail now spun above them in mid-air. "Oh," he said, now seeing something very recognizable. "It's a double-helix...DNA," he said, glancing at her questioningly.

"Yes," she said pointing up at it. "But this isn't just any DNA, Jean-Luc. This is human DNA."

He rubbed his jaw and just looked at the DNA strand as it spun in front of them.

"When we landed on Trana IV I picked up some samples...of that blood in the village, remember?"

"Mm hmm."

"Well, there was so much going on, that I didn't even test the samples. Until now."

He frowned and folded his arms over his chest not wanting to wait for the bombshell. "Are you suggesting the Tranans are actually _human_?"

"Yes! Who else would this blood be from? No one on the away team was injured until the caves, and the Tranans were the only humanoid beings on the planet when we arrived."

He cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. "As far as we know yes...but there is something perhaps you haven't considered."

She raised an irritated eyebrow. "What?"

"What if these Brethren...what if _they_ are human? We know that the Tranans were trying to escape them. There could have been a conflict of some sort before we arrived-that could be blood from the Brethren. You know there was something about my conversation with Admiral Nechayev that wasn't quite right. She knew more about Federation involvement in this sector than she wanted to tell me."

"But Nechayev and you have known each other for years, Jean-Luc. She wouldn't lie to you about something this serious, would she?"

He leaned against a lab table. "I really don't know. Like you, I am just attempting to think through the possibilities."

She placed her hand on the table next to him, looking up at the DNA strand. "There's something else here, Jean-Luc. Whoever this person is or was, the one thing I do know is that this DNA belonged to a clone."

"A clone?"

She nodded. "This entire strand was engineered."

He sighed, not happy with an additional wrinkle. "Assuming you're right, Beverly, and there are humans out in this sector, how did they get here? There is no record of human travel or settlement in this sector prior to this mission."

"If you'd let me just test one of the Tranans on the holodeck..."

"No," he said with quiet firmness. "We've been over this before."

She stared back at him. "Alright then. Let's assume that I _am_ right about this, that this blood belongs to someone in Rolani's group. If they're human then how can we possibly be violating the Prime Directive by testing them. They're human!"

" _If_ you are correct," he allowed. "And I'm not saying that you are...everything we know about the Tranans tells us they are a pre-warp civilization. It would be the same as going back to pre-warp Earth and interfering with the humans there. Besides, there are countless things about the universe we still don't understand. Humanity may not be unique to Earth. Perhaps humans developed elsewhere under the same environmental conditions."

"Jean-Luc..."

"My point is, we simply cannot be sure."

"Yet," she said, determined to have the last word.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

* * *

"You should have taken me up on that coffee," Beverly said, walking next to Jean-Luc out of sick bay. "It's practically time to wake up in the morning."

He rolled his eyes. "Not quite. I would prefer another hour of sleep to caffeine."

"And I know you prefer tea," she said, giving him a sideways glance.

"Hmm."

"What's wrong?" she asked.

He looked at her and stifled a yawn. "What? Oh, I am just thinking about your theory, that's all."

"And?" She broke into a smile as the intensity of his thoughts became etched into his features. She found she enjoyed watching him think, which he did often. She wondered if he preferred to have the weight of the decision on him always, or if he would sometimes prefer to hand off that responsibility. And she wondered if he was lonely when he sat alone in his quarters thinking, or if he was simply at peace.

She had the sudden urge to take hold of his arm while they were walking, but instead she held her tricorder more tightly. She was still awaiting his response to her question, and watching him, when his face contorted in shock. She followed his gaze and saw a body crumpled on the deck just ahead of them. They broke into a run and reached the still form at the same time. Beverly already had her tricorder open and working as she knelt down. Jean-Luc reached out to grab the man's neck. "He's still breathing," he said. But she gripped his shoulder.

"No, don't touch him! He's been poisoned and the toxin is still active on his skin."

Picard stood up staring down at Premier Fon helplessly. "We have to help him somehow."

Suddenly the tricorder gave off an alarm. She looked up at him. "It's too late...he's dead."

Suddenly, the both looked down at the deck and realized they were standing in a large pool of blood. Beverly ran the tricorder over it wordlessly. "This is human blood, Jean-Luc." They both surveyed the hallway, but there was only one body, that of Premier Fon's.

* * *

Responding to Picard's intercom call, Will Riker and Tasha Yar with her security team in tow rushed toward Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher. It would have been almost comical, had the rest of the scene not been so horrific. The two officers were wearing matching bathrobes, and looked shaken, yet professional under the circumstances.

"Captain...Doctor," Riker said, keeping calm as he took in his surroundings quickly. At least one person had died here, violently. "Are you two alright?"

Crusher nodded, but Picard said nothing and appeared to be working something through in his mind; still in command, even when wrapped in his bathrobe.

Riker studied Picard, who appeared to be, not surprisingly, an emotional rock. He had no doubt that the captain was affected by the grisly scene he had stumbled upon, but you wouldn't know it.

"We are fine," said Picard. "However there has been a set of tragic circumstances here that requires a thorough investigation," he said with perfect understatement. He pointed toward the body of a dead Ciapathian which lay several meters away. Riker had immediately recognized the dead man as Premier Fon when he arrived moments earlier, but now he allowed himself to look more closely. His once bright fuchsia skin tone had faded, and his eyes stared upward and unfocused. Streaks of white covered his once vibrant fuscia skin.

Next to him was a large pool of human blood and on the wall was another splatter of blood and a hand print. _One of our people?_ Riker swallowed and returned his gaze to the Captain who was speaking. "This man was poisoned on _my_ ship," Picard said angrily. "And we have a substantial amount of human blood, which Doctor Crusher is currently checking for possible DNA matches among the crew. Lieutenant," he called out to Yar who was barking orders at her security team.

"Yes, sir?" She came jogging over.

"Run a security sensor sweep of the area and seal off this corridor at all possible entry and exit points. No one but the four of us and your team come in or out until I say otherwise, understood? This is a crime scene and I don't want it trampled upon."

"Yes sir, understood," she said, waving over one of her officers.

"Number One," said Picard turning to Riker. "Given our delicate negotiating status with Ciapathia, we need to tread very carefully from here on in. I need you to notify the government of Ciapathia of Premier Fon's death. Please assure them that we are launching an investigation into the matter."

"And if they demand the body sir?"

"Tell them the Premier's body will be returned once my investigation is complete."

 _He's planning on running this investigation himself._ "Yes, sir," said Riker, deciding that right then was not the time for an argument.

"Captain...you should see this." Both men turned to regard Doctor Crusher, who was holding her medical tricorder in hand. Her face was now ashen. Picard frowned and followed her far enough away that Riker had to practically eavesdrop to listen in.

Beverly slowly handed Picard the tricorder. He felt that she was watching him, and he tried to keep his face from revealing his dismay as he read the results of her DNA match. _LaForge._ When he looked at her again, he saw that she was blinking back tears.

 _We can't know for certain that he's dead,_ he thought. _I will not_ _accept one of our people being lost...not in this way. "_ If he is still on board, we'll find him," he assured her aloud. He moved to give her back the tricorder but instead of taking it from him, she clasped her fingers over his tightly and looked at him, trying to gauge what he was feeling. Neither of them were strangers to death. But murder was different. She wanted to connect with him over this horrible thing they had just experienced, but he simply looked through her, failing to engage.

 _Was this how he reacted when Jack died? No...he was there when it happened. He tried to save Jack. This is different. Don't jump to conclusions, Beverly. Geordi might still be alive. But there is so much blood..._

"Wait..." she said, still looking into his eyes.

"Beverly," he said quietly looking down at where her fingers had turned pale from gripping his own hand so tightly. "Beverly, I have to go. Are you going to be alright?"

It was hard not to recall being in an empty corridor with him just ten years earlier, as he explained with a similar expression, that the unthinkable had happened to Jack. But this was now, not ten years ago. _Get yourself together, Beverly._ She nodded at him firmly, and then let go of his hand, taking the tricorder from him, watching as he walked to Riker.

Picard looked squarely at his first officer. "This blood belongs to Lieutenant LaForge."

 _"What?"_ Will felt his insides flip over.

"As far as any of us are concerned, he's still alive," said Picard. "But we must move swiftly to ascertain whether he is still on board _._ Now, I want teams searching for Mr. LaForge consistently and in an organized manner. Please coordinate with Yar. Never mind what I said about the Ciapathians. I'll handle them."

Will struggled to remain calm, but tears of anger burned in his eyes. _This shouldn't have happened to Geordi. "_ Yes sir, if he's here we'll find him."

 _"_ I know we will," replied the captain. Then to Will's surprise he gripped him briefly on the forearm before walking away.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

* * *

 _"_ Thank you for coming, Mr. Data," Picard said. "Please sit down."

Data nodded and sat down slowly in a chair with very straight posture. Picard remained standing, but leaned his weight back against the desk.

He'd had time to throw on a uniform-that was it. Picard rubbed his chin, faintly aware that he needed to shave. His android colleague was, on the other hand completely clean-shaven and his appearance was immaculate. The Captain stifled another yawn. He'd now been awake for almost 24 hours, but now was not the time for sleeping. Data, of course, had no need for sleep. "You've been on bridge duty?"

"Yes sir. I am currently still on duty. In fact, I went on shift three point two hours ago."

"Data...something terrible has happened." He searched Data's face for a reaction, and surprisingly found one.

Data appeared concerned. "Sir, if I can be of any assistance..."

"Where were you around midnight, Data?"

"Could you be more specific regarding the time, Captain?"

Suddenly feeling a chill, Picard gripped his biceps, and looked down at the floor of his ready room. "Unfortunately, Mr. Data, no." He looked up at Data. "Where were you?"

"I was on deck three, Captain. I had just left Geordi and took the turbo lift up to the bridge to begin my shift, sir."

Picard took in a sharp breath through his nose. _Geordi was alive at midnight. I was with Beverly. We could have stopped it..._ "How long were you with Mr. LaForge last night, where had you been, and what were you discussing prior to you leaving in the turbo lift?"

"We had been in engineering together for approximately one hour, and then we stopped at the observation lounge on deck three. Just before departing deck three, we were discussing the ethical implications of being a friend," Data said smoothly.

Picard raised an eyebrow. "I see. And how did he...seem?"

Data remained perfectly still, but blinked once. "Has something happened to Geordi, sir?"

Picard closed his eyes briefly. "Please answer my question, Mr. Data."

"He was...pensive," Data said after a moment.

"Pensive. What do you mean?"

"Based on what he told me, I believe he was considering both career advancement and the status of his personal relationships. And he was uncertain of both."

 _How strangely unsettling to find that an android is more adept at judging a person's mood than I am. "_ Did he say anything which concerned you?"

Data frowned. "No, sir."

"Why didn't he leave deck three with you?"

Data shook his head. "I do not know, Captain. But as I mentioned, he was quite pensive. Perhaps he wished to return to the observation deck. Geordi told me recently that he enjoys observing the electromagnetic waves in space through his Visor almost as much as he enjoys sexual intimacy."

Picard's eyebrows shot up again he pushed himself away from the desk and paced away. _Well,_ l _et's just leave that one unexplored for now, shall we?_ But when he turned back to Data, the android's expression was so complex that he asked: "What is it, Mr. Data?"

"I believe I should apologize, Captain."

"Hmm? Why is that?"

"Just before I left Geordi last night, I had reminded him of the importance of not repeating things said in confidence between friends. However, I just violated the same rule, by disclosing something of a personal nature about Geordi that he told me in confidence."

 _Good lord, Data has quite an active social life._ "Data," Picard assured him, sitting down on the edge of his desk. "I appreciate your concern for Mr. LaForge's personal feelings…and certainly I will not repeat what you just told me." He scratched the back of his head. Minutes ago he would not have hesitated to tell Data flat out that LaForge was missing, and had delayed having said so only in consideration of his investigation…not out of concern for Data's feelings.

Of course, practically he knew Data had no feelings, and yet intuitively, he was no longer certain of that assumption. Now he recognized that he was talking not to an emotionless robot, but to Geordi LaForge's closest friend on the ship.

"Data, Geordi is missing, and based on the evidence thus far, he has at the very least been seriously wounded," he said quietly. "Commander Riker and Lieutenant Yar are currently coordinating efforts to search for him all over the ship." He briefly explained the circumstances that he and Beverly Crusher had encountered earlier that morning.

Data's expression remained unreadable. "Perhaps I should assist them, Captain."

Picard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, Data…I believe I have a task more suited to your talents."

* * *

"I demand that you return the body of our Premier, Captain Picard…at once!" Representative Del shouted for the third time. From a very short distance away.

Picard tapped his fingers on the conference room table. Counselor Troi and Lieutenant Commander Data stood on either side of him. Doctor Petral, who had not been invited, sat at the table, and had remained very still, in contrast with Del, who was quickly whipping himself into a frenzy. For someone who had by all appearances hated Premier Fon, Del seemed highly agitated at the news of his death.

"As I have already explained, Del, I'm not going to accede to your demands until I have finished this investigation."

"You seem to forget that we were supposed to be here on a peaceful mission, Picard, and _instead_ , the leader of my people is now _dead_ in your ship's morgue! Therefore, you will hand over—"

"And you seem to forget, Del, that one of my own crew, a very bright and good hearted young man, is missing and quite possibly has been murdered. Whatever Mr. LaForge's fate, it is tied to that of Premier Fon."

"Oh I have not forgotten, Picard. In fact this bright young man who you mention, by all accounts is the prime suspect in the murder of Premier Fon. He's gone missing after all!"

Picard kept his fury contained. "I'm not handing over the body to you until we know more about my missing crew member. And that is final."

Del leaped to his feet. "Then _you_ will bear the consequences of your rash decisions, Picard! I am returning to my ship now, and will discuss with the ruling party whether or not to declare war on the Federation."

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that," Picard said slowly.

"What—"

"Del this horrible incident happened on my ship. No one is going anywhere until we have sorted this out. As far as I am concerned, you are just as much a suspect as anyone else."

Del shot an outraged look toward Doctor Petral who remained almost motionless. "On what authority are you keeping us here?"

Picard nodded toward Data who began speaking as though he never intended to stop. "Starfleet Security protocols 1241 through 2036 govern the investigation of deaths on board Galaxy Class starships. Paragraph 1B of protocol 1246 specifically provides that standard non-medical quarantine and investigation must ensue within 6 hours of the death, during which the cooperation of all witnesses and interested parties is required. The commanding officer of the vessel, if fit for duty, shall lead the investigation unless he or she selects, after the required briefing under Rule 2, a designated substitute to undertake the investigation, in which case Rule 4 must be followed explicitly-"

"You idiot, I am not subject to Federation jurisdiction," blustered Del. "I am a Ciapathian delegate."

Picard nodded to Data, who again continued without hesitation. "The commanding officer shall have complete jurisdiction over an inquiry related to the deaths or presumed deaths of a Starfleet officer. Pursuant to protocol 1246A, non-Federation witnesses or parties who intend to object to the investigative inquiry must initiate immediate legal contact with the Federation Consulate located generally in San Francisco, Earth. General Order 21 of Starfleet Intelligence requires that under exigent circumstances all witnesses may be interviewed at the discretion of the commanding officer without legal representation, however—"

"Enough!" Del shouted. "I will stay on board for now. But I warn you, Picard, I will leave if and when I decide to. Any attempt to prevent me from doing so will be considered an act of war."

Picard allowed himself a small smile. _Good enough for now._ _Thank you, Mr. Data._

Just then the com beeped. Picard leaned over and pressed a small pad on the table. "Go ahead," he said.

" _Yar here, sir. It's about the sensor sweep you ordered, Captain."_

She's being very cautious, which I appreciate, but would like to make a point here. "Proceed, Lieutenant."

" _The sensor sweep revealed an energy surge in corridor 6ED on deck three at 12:19 a.m., Captain,"_ reported Yar.

"What kind of a surge?"

" _I don't know, Captain. The duration appears to have been five seconds at most. My people are still trying to isolate what the source might have been."_

"Good work, Lieutenant. Keep me apprised."

" _Aye sir."_

Picard turned slowly back to Del. "You see? We have nothing to hide, Del. We are simply attempting to get answers…just as you are. However, I have to ask the question: did you bring any equipment on board with you that would cause the kind of energy surge my officer just described?"

Del snarled and came nose to nose with Picard. "Are you accusing me of murder?"

Picard stared him down and then turned to Petral, placing his hands flat on the table. "You've been very quiet, Doctor. Perhaps you have brought medical equipment on board which could have caused such a surge."

Petral simply looked at him. " _Perhaps_ I am a prisoner on board your ship, Picard…but I am not obliged to answer your questions," he said with a small smile. "Of course," he added solemnly, "Justice must be done for our dear leader."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 **A few moments later…**

"Stop! Put her down!"

Picard rushed towards the door, when he heard Worf's shout. Then he thought he heard Beverly's voice yelling something he was unable to understand. The next thing he knew, Reth, the Ciapathian's giant security chief strode into the conference room. Under his arm in mid-air was the struggling form of Fon's daughter, Hatha. In pursuit was Worf, and Beverly, who surprisingly was carrying a phaser, and Wesley, who was bringing up the rear.

"What in the hell?" Picard surveyed the group quickly, and no one seemed harmed, aside from poor Hatha, who was still writhing in mid-air. He did not notice that Doctor Petral had risen to his feet and was looking on with a look of amused curiosity.

"Would you like me to shoot him, Captain?" Worf growled, leaving his hand on his holstered phaser and nodding toward Reth.

"No! Now, what is the meaning of this?" the Captain demanded of Reth. "I do not tolerate this kind of violence on board my ship!"

Reth laughed and put Hatha down, and then shoved her into one of the conference room chairs. "This is the murderer, Captain," he roared. "I found her plotting her escape with this human boy."

"No, we weren't," Wesley protested. "Captain, I swear I was just—"

Picard put up his hand and just shook his head at Wesley, who retreated in silence and sat down next to Hatha. Reaching out defiantly he took her hand in his.

"Just what are you talking about?" Picard said glaring up at Reth. "These are serious allegations."

"She did not want to be married, and so to escape her obligations, she killed her own father and then attempted to escape with this boy," Reth said again.

"Don't you dare talk about my son," Beverly said, starting to take a step toward the giant Ciapathian. Picard glanced at her in alarm, suddenly feeling like a referee _. If I can't even get Beverly to see reason, I am definitely in trouble._ "Doctor, please…." She reluctantly stepped back, and he was more than a little relieved to see that she had handed Worf her phaser.

"My father was my only protector," Hatha shouted suddenly. "Why would I kill him? I loved him," she began to sob into her hands.

"Married?" Del demanded. "To whom?"

Hatha stopped crying long enough to point across the table at Petral. "Him!"

Del let out what could only be interpreted as a flabbergasted noise. "Married? To that disgusting little worm…I think not. Fon would never have allowed that."

"Perhaps," said Petral in his softly sinister voice, "there are things you are not aware of. Things that worms know, but you do not… Del."

"It is the Ascension," said Hatha. "He is forcing me to marry him."

"Wait, wait, wait," growled Del. "What is this Ascension she speaks of? I have never heard of this and my family has been prominent in government for six hundred years."

Wesley glanced at Hatha in surprise.

"In any case, this is probably why I found her escaping," Reth insisted. "Would _you_ marry him?" he laughed pointing at Petral, who offered only a sly smile in response.

"And what _I_ found," Beverly interjected again," was this person," she said gesturing at Reth, "dragging this poor girl _out_ of my quarters. For all I know he would have killed both Hatha and my son if I hadn't arrived."

Deanna's eyes widened. "And so you grabbed that phaser…"

"And chased him up to the bridge, where Worf joined me. You are damn right, I did," Beverly said indignantly. "Was I just supposed to let him go?"

Picard found that he was unable to avert his gaze from her as she spoke. That is until he was shaken by the sound of Reth's rumbling laugh. "I would not have killed anyone. I was merely seeking justice for our dear leader, who has now passed into the next world."

"In any case," Del said, standing over Doctor Petral. "I have not heard of this Ascension. On what grounds do you believe you have the right to force this poor girl to marry you?"

Petral steepled his fingers together. "I never said that I intended to marry this girl," he said.

"Liar!" Hatha shouted, nearly smacking Wesley in the face with her hand as she stood up to accuse the strange little scientist.

"But…if I did intend to marry her, you would not stop me," Petral continued with a smile, turning his visor to look up at Del.

Del slammed his fist onto the table. " _What_ is the Ascension?"

Petral lifted his slim shoulders in a little shrug and tilted his ruby visor toward Picard. "Captain…perhaps Fon did not have a chance to tell you before his unfortunate demise, but ours is a dying race. Del believes that because his family has held some modicum of political power for centuries, that he knows all. He thinks because unlike many of us, he has had unusual success with procreation, that he is safe. But twenty-two children or not…the Ciapathian people are dying…sooner than later. Little did he know until now, that a _worm_ such as me holds his fate and that of the entire Ciapathian race in my hands," he said opening his palms.

Del laughed. "You are saying you have found a cure?"

Petral stood up abruptly. "I am tired and require rest." He looked at Picard as though seeking permission. "May I go to my guest quarters?"

Picard cleared his throat. "Yes, I have no further questions for you at this time."

With a silent nod, Petral quickly moved to exit the room. But he halted and then turned back around to address them. "If I was seeking a wife, I might pursue one a bit more difficult to catch," he said directing his peculiar gaze at Beverly. "As Reth will tell you, sometimes the most elusive prey brings the greatest rewards in the end…once caught."

"Do not speak to her in that manner," Picard shouted, surprising even himself with his sudden indignation.

Petral broke into slow smile. "Just as I suspected. How interesting, Captain." Then finally, he turned and left the room.

* * *

 **Thanks everyone for your loyal readership...;) PP**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

* * *

After the unsettling doctor Petral had left the room, Reth looked down at Picard. "You do not intend to arrest her then?" He nodded toward Hatha with disdain.

Outraged, Picard pointed up at Reth. "This young woman has just suffered an immense tragedy. What actual evidence do you have to support your preposterous claim that she killed her own father?"

Reth sneered. "I will conduct my own investigation."

Del moved to put his arm around Hatha, gently helping the girl to her feet. "I will be your guardian, my dear. At least for now. I already have twenty-two children—what is one more? If you agree?"

Hatha looked at Wesley, who tried to give her an encouraging smile. Slowly she let go of Wesley's hand and stood up with Del.

"Thank you," she said, turning back to Wesley. "For trying to help me. And you too, Doctor," she said turning to smile at Beverly. "For coming to my rescue."

Hatha turned her sharp gaze to Reth, who was watching her with a strange smile.

* * *

Riker watched as Yar crawled backwards out of a Jeffries tube. She nodded at Will and Data when she turned around to face them. "Sirs..."

"Well?" Riker asked tiredly. "Anything?"

She shook her head solemnly and handed him her tricorder. "I'm sorry...nothing yet. It's been hours since we started looking for him."

He noted she had the same blank look in her eyes that he knew was in his. She was tired, but still focused on finding LaForge.

"Come on," Riker said, glancing at Data. "We're not finished yet."

* * *

 **A few hours later...**

"Going to bed early, Reth? I would have thought you'd be a little more upset about the death of Premier Fon."

Riker and Yar stood on either side of the door to his guest quarters.

"How long have you been waiting for me?" Reth asked, more curious than suspicious.

Riker grinned but what fueled it was not delight, but a slow simmering anger. "Not long…you see we've been busy all day long looking for our friend. And he's still missing. So we didn't mind waiting a few more minutes for you to arrive if that means we'll get some answers."

"We'll wait as long as it takes," Yar added darkly.

"What makes you two suspect that I have the answers you seek?"

"Where's your sidekick?" Riker asked easily, as Reth stopped in front of them.

The big man's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Where is your _hunting_ companion?" Yar questioned. "You know, that giant bug you love so much."

"If you must know, she is…deceased."

"Really? When did that happen?"

"Last night."

"No, I mean exactly what time last night, Reth?"

"I cannot say for certain."

"What did you do with its body?" Yar demanded.

" _Her_ body is still in my quarters. I have not yet disposed of it."

Riker glanced at Yar tensely. "We need to enter your quarters…now," he demanded.

To his surprise, Reth smiled. "Of course," he said, standing aside. Yar punched in a security code, and they stepped inside cautiously. Reth walked past them casually and pointed at a table in the center of the room. There on the tabletop was the motionless black shell of the giant beetle, legs curled inward.

"So tragic." Reth turned back to them with a genuine note of sadness. "They live such short lives…."

* * *

Dr. Petral was closing his case of belongings when Reth entered the room. The scientist didn't bother to turn around, though he knew the much larger man loomed over him. He had no reason to be concerned for his own safety, and certainly he was not.

Reth was accustomed to this kind of treatment and wasn't easily bothered. "Leaving so soon, Doctor? I thought Captain Picard had you trapped here with the rest of us with his ridiculous security protocols."

Petral turned and walked past Fon's former Chief of Arms, again hardly acknowledging his presence. "Picard was wise to try and do so, but he lacks the authority to keep any of us here, and he knows it. His tactics worked only to stall our departure."

"We're leaving then?"

" _I_ am leaving. Picard's superiors have ordered him to allow me to return to our ship. He interrogated me personally, which of course was fruitless. There is absolutely no evidence to connect any of us to the death of our dear leader. The concession from our government was that Del will remain on board to continue the negotiations with the Federation. Of course, the politicians on Ciapathia are only minimally distraught at Fon's death. Del is stupider than Fon was, and easily confused, which means he can be manipulated."

"But Fon knew about the Ascenscion, and Del does not. He's of no use to our plans."

" _My_ plan is to save the Ciapathian people, Reth. Del serves the purpose of causing a distraction. I have no desire to see the negotiations successful, and do not worry, they won't be. Before you know it, we will be at war with the Federation."

 _"_ They have formidable technologies, Petral. Are you still certain this is the best course of action?"

"We are at the very least just as formidable, and superior to the humans in every way. This is the only way to ensure the survival of our race."

"I want to leave the Enterprise with you, Mithra deserves a proper burial," said Reth. "The Starfleet officers ran their scans over her body. Of course they found nothing of use to them..."

Petral lifted his gaze finally, his ruby red visor glinting. "Good. But if you think I mourn for your giant insect, you are mistaken. Besides, Mithra died for a good cause... I think we can both agree to that."

Reth grunted. "Yes."

"Don't despair, Reth. I will take your beloved beetle back to the ship with me and have her properly disposed of."

"Am I not to return with you?"

"No, you most certainly are not. You are to stay on this ship and finish what you started. Oh...and I expect regular reports from you about Doctor Beverly Crusher. Just to keep me inspired in my work."

* * *

Picard wasn't certain why he stopped by her quarters that evening, but something visceral compelled him to do so. Still he hesitated and then paced outside her door for several minutes, the day's events and Riker's most recent report were all careening around his consciousness. LaForge was still missing. And now, the chances of him coming back at the very least uninjured were distressingly slim. Now that the shock of LaForge's disappearance was wearing off, the crew was beginning to show their anger and outrage. How someone among them could have been harmed so violently right under their noses, and had now disappeared…well, it was unthinkable.

He realized then why he had come. Doctor Petral's last words to him…to Beverly. It had shaken him somehow, and he didn't understand why. All he knew was that he did not trust Petral. In fact, he suspected that Petral was responsible for Fon's death. But so far, he had no proof. And now Petral was leaving the Enterprise, making the possibility that any link would be discovered very unlikely.

"Hi…."

His head snapped up, and he had been so focused on his thoughts that he hadn't realized he was staring down at his boots. He hadn't heard the door swish open and now Beverly stood before him.

"Oh," he said with an edgy laugh. "I'm sorry, I was…I was just thinking."

"Does standing outside my quarters inspire you to think?"

 _Yes._ "No, I just stopped by to—"

"Jean-Luc…I know why you're here," she said quietly. "It's alright. Wesley and I just finished dinner, so please come in."

"Are you quite sure?"

She laughed. "Yes, I am quite sure," she said waving him inside. She stood aside. "Come in."

He walked in, and for a moment just stood there.

"Can I get you anything? How about some tea?"

"Some tea would be wonderful," he admitted, suddenly realizing that he had not eaten all day. But in truth he wasn't hungry. He sat down and watched her walk to the replicator. When she turned around, he averted his gaze so as not to appear that he was staring. If she noticed that he had been watching her, she didn't seem to mind.

"Where's Wesley?" he asked as she handed him the cup. "Thank you."

She sighed. "He's upset about what happened this afternoon. I tried talking with him, but since it's about a girl he likes…basically he's not talking." She shrugged. "Maybe you'd like to try," she said with a smile.

He froze under her gaze, feeling incredibly uncomfortable with that prospect. Of course he recalled telling the boy not to get involved with Fon's daughter. But had he listened? Of course not. Well, eventually the boy would need to learn his lessons about relationships, and to avoid them wherever possible.

She reached out to tap him on the knee, and he came out of his fog. "Jean-Luc, I was just kidding." _Sort of._

"You said you knew why I came to see you." He took a deep breath. "There was something about what Petral-"

" _Please_ don't even say his name right now," she said quickly. "He makes my skin crawl."

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I just want you to know that he's leaving the Enterprise, and won't bother you any further."

"Why? What happened?"

"Starfleet Command intervened. Since he wasn't integral to the negotiations in the first place, and I couldn't present any evidence to tie him to Fon's death or Geordi's disappearance, they ordered me to release him."

She shook her head as if it didn't matter, and took a sip from her mug. She put it down with a click. "Well at least he's gone," she said quietly. She looked up at him. "I'm glad you're here, Jean-Luc. After everything that happened this morning and then spending all day searching for poor Geordi…." She looked at the wall and then back into his eyes. "I'm just happy to see you."

He chuckled. "And I spared you the matching bathrobe this time."

"If it helps you to relax you can wear mine," she laughed.

"Oh, I don't think that would be appropriate," he tried to say seriously, but ended up laughing instead. He reached out his hand to pick up his cup of tea, when she took his hand in hers, linking their fingers together. Finding her gaze again, they both grew very serious once more.

She finally let his hand go, and grabbed her cup of tea again. "I tested the poison and the most I could confirm was that it is organic. I don't know the source, and frankly the non-invasive autopsy scan showed nothing but the fact that Fon struggled with someone just before he was poisoned."

"Riker suspected Reth's involvement, but a scan of his quarters and his deceased hunting companion found nothing of value," he said.

"Meanwhile...where's Geordi?"

Picard's communicator chirped and he tapped it quickly. "Go ahead."

 _"Captain, Riker here...we've found something you should see."_

Picard got to his feet. "What is it?"

" _It's another small spatter of blood found in a corridor adjacent to the crime scene. It's been there roughly the same amount of time as the blood we identified as Geordi's, but the most we can tell at this point is that it's probably human- but not his. We were going to ask Doctor Crusher to run her tests-"_

"We're together-in her quarters." Picard interrupted Riker tensely. He took a deep breath and looked at Beverly, who had a bemused smile on her face. "Doctor Crusher is with me," Picard repeated, his composure returning.

Riker didn't miss a beat. _"Of course, Captain. We're on deck three."_

"On our way."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

* * *

Crusher and Picard hurried to meet Riker and the others on deck three, and were so anxious about what they might find that they didn't speak along the way. Once they arrived, Beverly took the tiny vial from Riker, who approached them without a word. Picard looked at Data and Yar, both professional, but even Data looked solemn and weary from the search for their comrade. Even though he hadn't known any of them for long, Picard felt this experience, more than any other so far would solidify the bond that had been sowly forming since they met. Losing a crew member was not the ideal way to unite as a crew, however, and unfortunately he knew that lesson all too well.

He crossed his arms, and rubbed his chin, watching silently as Beverly plugged the vial into her medical tricorder. The process seemed to take longer than it should have, and she paused, appearing deep in thought for a moment, before typing something quickly into the device. A few moments later the tricorder beeped, and she read the results wordlessly before looking up at her colleagues. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

Picard pulled absently at his bottom lip. The feeling of trepidation seemed to spread through his veins with each expansion of his lungs. "Doctor?" he prompted her quietly.

She had regained her poise, and faced him directly. "It matches the blood sample the away team found in the village on Trana IV."

Picard felt his arms drop numbly to his sides. _"What?"_ he and Riker said almost at the same time. "Are you sure?" Picard said in a low voice.

Beverly tapped the tricorder lightly in her open palm. "Yes. The blood matches the sample I showed you in my lab last night. Without question."

"Wait," Yar said, nearly pushing Data aside. "Are you telling me the Tranan people on the holodeck have been out here-out here running around the _ship_?"

"I didn't say that," said Beverly.

"Well, then how the hell did blood from one of the Tranans travel outside the holodeck?" Riker demanded.

Beverly glanced at Picard. "I don't know, it's not my investigation. All I can tell you is what this sample shows."

Yar flushed angrily. "This is a security breach, and we need to secure the holodeck immediately-"

"Now let's wait a moment," Picard interrupted firmly. "Before we jump to conclusions and miss something crucial because we let our emotions get the better of us."

"But sir-"

"Captain Picard is correct," said Data. "The sample we retreived from the surface of the planet was never matched with any of the Tranan people currently residing on holodeck three. Therefore, we cannot be certain that it belongs to them."

"That's because I was never allowed to test our visitors," Crusher said, glancing sideways at the captain.

"We've been over this, Doctor," Picard said tightly. "The Tranans are a pre-warp civilization, and the Prime Directive still applies. The less exposure to our technology they have, the better."

"Better for whom?" Riker said edgily.

Yar nodded in agreement. "Geordi's still missing, and if the Tranans know something about it, we need to question them, Captain-"

"Enough! This is not a damn debate," he glared at his officers before stepping away. "Picard to Counselor Troi," he said tapping his communicator as he strode away.

" _Troi here,_ " was the reply.

"Meet Doctor Crusher and myself on holodeck three, in five minutes."

* * *

Riker watched them depart before running a hand through his hair. _Damn it._ He didn't appreciate being yelled at, but he knew Picard was under pressure to deal with the Tranan survivors, while balancing the negotiations with the Ciapathians. And now he had a murder investigation and a missing crew member to contend with as well. Riker looked at Yar and Data. "The Captain's right. We need to keep as cool as possible. We owe it to Geordi. Thoughts on how to proceed?"

"The only thing we know for sure is that if he's still alive, Lieutenant LaForge isn't on board," said Yar. "We've searched the ship thoroughly using all means at our disposal."

" _If_ he's alive," Riker repeated grimly. "It's been almost 18 hours since he disappeared. We need to seriously consider that LaForge could be dead. That was a lot of blood at the scene."

"A disruptor of some kind could have caused that kind of damage to his body...and could have also disintegrated him."

"There was a power surge at the location where Captain Picard and Doctor Crusher discovered Premier Fon's body. Although we examined the area carefully, I recommend scanning the area again to rule out weapons fire."

Riker nodded. "Good. You two handle this, I know I can trust you. And then once you've finished, go get some rest."

"I do not require rest, Commander," Data reminded him.

"I don't care, Data, shut yourself down for a few minutes... even you can't be one hundred percent at this point." He started to step away, when Yar called after him.

"What about you, sir?"

"I'm going to talk to Del," he said. "If he knows more about Fon's death than he's letting on, then I'm going to find out."

* * *

"She's late," Picard snapped, threatening to tap his boot on the deck.

"I'm sure she's just-"

"I'm here!" Troi said, rounding the bend, somewhat out of breath.

Picard gestured for the Counselor to hurry up and Beverly sighed inwardly. His mood seemed to be growing ever more tense and irritable. But they were all on the edge, and frankly she vacillated herself between immense sadness, anger and total exhaustion.

"What's happened?" she said, stopping abruptly in front of them.

The captain explained the new blood sample and the issues it now raised for them.

"I've communicated with the Tranans enough now to know that they aren't easily reasoned with. They speak almost in riddles, and adhere to an ideology that is quite mysterious. They are quite secretive," said Deanna.

"Secretive?"

"The man who you said challenged Rolani's authority back on Trana IV..."

"Yes," said Picard. "He wanted to remain on the planet and wait to be 'chosen' by the Brethren. Rolani and most of the others wanted to escape."

Deanna nodded. "Rolani explained to us that he's now being punished. I have not seen him." She looked at Beverly. "Have you?"

"Now that you mention it, no. Rolani seems to be caling the shots, that's clear." Beverly turned to Picard. "Captain, you know Rolani will do anything you say..."

"Your _point_ , Doctor?"

"My point is how far are you willing to go to adhere to the Prime Directive when Geordi's life may depend on breaking it?"

He glared at her for a moment before stepping past her to activate the holodeck entrance.

Deanna gave Beverly a meaningful look before following him in.

* * *

Rolani and most of the other Tranans were sitting around a large fire. They seemed to singing a low chant in a language that even the universal translator had trouble following. The temperature on the holodeck mirrored that of Trana, and was somewhat chilly. A cool wind whipped sand around their boots as the officers walked closer. Suddenly the singing stopped and Rolani got up from the circle. She walked toward the Starfleet Officers, and when she reached them, knelt down in the sand, head bowed.

"Our god has returned. He sees and knows all we do. And he is unhappy with us."

Picard, still uncomfortable with being considered a deity, knelt down beside the woman, but she fell over, and crawled away to what she must have considered a safer distance. Picard glanced up at Troi for assistance.

"Rolani, we've come to see you. What makes you think that Captain Picard is upset with you?"

"We do not intend to be cruel, but justice must be done in your name, Picard god."

"Rolani," said Picard quietly. "I don't understand. What justice are you talking about?"

Rolani shook her head quickly, and then began to absently draw in the sand with a stick.

Beverly had been watching Rolani and the captain, but her gaze drifted to the others gathered around the fire. Presently she noticed someone else was missing. "Rolani," she said, attempting to keep her voice calm, even as she felt her heart leap in her chest. "Where is Li?"

Picard looked up sharply, following Beverly's gaze. She was right. The young man who had attacked Beverly down on the planet; the young man who looked so similar to Rolani that he could be her brother, was missing.

Rolani covered her mouth and began to cry silently. She tried to crawl away from Picard, but he stood up. "Rolani," he said in a commanding voice. "Where is Li? We are...concerned about him."

Rolani stared up at him with a wild look of fear in her eyes. She twisted her hands together anxiously. "I had to punish him. I didn't want to punish, him, but I had to."

Picard shook his head in bewilderment. "Why?"

"Li wandered. He wandered when he should not have, from this place you have created for us to live in. So he had to be punished."

* * *

 **Whoa, hey...I'm keeping myself in suspense! Thanks for reading...will post again soon. ;) PP**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Beverly stepped toward Rolani. "Rolani, we need you to-"

Picard shook his head. "Let me handle this, Doctor," he said in a low voice. Her features remained tense, but she nodded.

"Rolani," he said in a much louder voice. "Have you seen anyone come here to this place besides the three of us?"

Rolani looked puzzled for a moment and looked from Picard to Troi, and to Crusher. "No one else has come to see us," she confirmed.

Picard nodded. "Then we shall leave you for now," he said, turning toward the holodeck exit. Deanna did the same.

"Wait!" Beverly protested, following behind them.

"Do not question god!" Rolani suddenly screamed in a great fury. Beverly stood her ground but her heartbeat increased with a rush of adrenaline. Troi put a supportive hand on her arm, and she surprisingly felt calmer within seconds.

Picard turned around impassively to face the Tranan woman. "I'm not your god, Rolani."

"Only the _true_ god would deny his greatness," she maintained, bowing her head once more.

"Oh _please_ ," Beverly muttered under her breath. She felt Troi's grip on her forearm tighten ever so slightly.

If the captain noticed, he didn't indicate as much. He turned back to the exit, seemingly convinced of the uselessness of engaging in such a circular argument.

* * *

Once in the hallway, Troi let go of Crusher's arm, and Beverly let loose. "How could you just let that go, captain? It seems that the list of people Rolani has decided to punish continues to grow, and yet you're unwilling to take action!"

"Doctor, if a decision needs to be made which violates the Prime Directive, it will be my decision, and mine alone."

"What are you going to decide?"

"I'm not going to discuss it with you at this time," he said, glancing at Troi, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Captain...Doctor, perhaps we should take this conversation elsewhere," she suggested.

Picard looked at her with muted surprise. "Counselor, I believe I just said I won't be discussing my decisions on this matter right now...and that includes in another venue," he said sharply.

 _He did say that._

"So if we're not going to discuss this further, then I should be returning to my duties," said the doctor.

"You're off duty," he reminded her.

Something in her paused momentarily, as she recalled they had been together, in a much more intimate setting less than an hour ago. And now this. "So are you," she said, and with a single blink of his eyes she could see he got her point. Hoping that she could capitalize on some kind of vulnerability she pressed on. "This is infuriating...all we want to do is to help Geordi, and I can't believe you are just going to stand by and-"

He reached out his open palm abruptly, and there wasn't a trace of intimacy in his gaze. "Give me your med kit and tricorder," he said.

"What?" She was surprised and confused, before the indignation quickly returned. "On what grounds-"

"I said, give me your medical kit and tricorder, Doctor. That is an order."

She stared at him a moment longer, before shoving the items into his arms, and walking briskly away.

* * *

"Sir...I'm not sure what you are planning, but I sense that you are very troubled," Troi said, watching Picard watch Beverly storm away down the corridor.

He looked at her distractedly. "I am troubled. But it's never stopped me from making a decision, Counselor." He forced a smile. "Thank you for your assistance."

He didn't have to dismiss her, she could see the conversation would not be proceeding any further. Perhaps in an effort to avoid revealing himself to her, he had created an unexpected familiarity between them. She stifled a yawn and realized she wouldn't mind returning to her quarters for some much needed rest, anyway. She smiled back at him. "Good night then, Captain," she said, walking away.

* * *

Once Troi had departed, Picard put the med kit down for a few moments while he examined the medical tricorder carefully. It had been some time since he'd needed to use such an instrument. He pulled the vial of unidentified blood from the crime scene out of the analysis compartment, and placed it in an empty slot at the bottom of the tool, aware that his fingers were clumsy; not like Beverly's. The sensation of her fingers intertwining with his returned, and his breath caught in his throat. He took a deep breath and shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of these distracting thoughts. He knelt down and opened the med kit, looking past any number of unidentified tools before finding what he needed. He grabbed for a hypo spray, then satisfied, he closed the kit and stood up. He paused and looked around him before he hit the holodeck door lock and stepped inside.

* * *

"He has returned," one of the Tranans shouted. In the distance he could see Rolani turn and walk back in his direction. She had been headed to the caves. He steeled himself and strode through the dust to meet her. As he passed, the other Tranans withdrew silently, or knelt in the dirt. As he approached, Rolani predictably threw herself on the ground at his feet.

He knelt down and grasped her arm. To his dismay she squeezed her eyes shut as though waiting for some kind of excruciating pain at the touch of his hand. When it didn't come, she opened her eyes cautiously, still unwilling to look at him directly.

He gently lifted her up with him as he stood. "Rolani," he said quietly but firmly. "You must take me to see Li."

She took a step backward, and he let go of her arm. "My god, you will be displeased with what I have done. You will strike me down!"

"No...no I will most certainly not."

"But you must not see what I have done."

"Why? What have you done?"

"The binding."

He frowned, wondering if the universal translator in his badge was doing its job. "I don't understand. Please take me to see Li."

She shrank back from him again, and he felt an immense irritation. He didn't have time for this. "Rolani...if you have done violence to Li in some way, it is better that you bring me to him. If you do not, I may be forced to return you to Trana."

"No! Please!"

"I agreed to protect you and your people from the Brethren, but I cannot have further violence on my ship."

She glanced around her furtively, before turning back in the direction she had been walking. He followed.

* * *

As he expected, Rolani was keeping Li inside the maze of caves. Thankfully they didn't have to travel too far once they entered a large cavern. Along the sides he could see various recesses. Rolani stopped near one of them and dropped to the cave floor, placing her head in her hands. "I am sorry god, I had to do it. He must understand the punishment. He must be shown," she cried, rocking back and forth.

Walking around her, he moved closer to the hole in the cave wall. A pair of bare feet were sticking out of the wall. Alarmed he moved closer. "Li?"

The feet twitched, and Picard grabbed the feet, and seeing that the feet were bound at the ankles by leather-like straps, he reached in further and pulled at the legs. Angrily he turned on Rolani. "What have you done?"

She remained crouched on the cave floor, mumbling something odd over and over.

Ignoring her, he gripped the man's legs and pulled him out of the rocky recess, gently carrying him, and then placing him on the ground. The young man was identifiable as Li, despite the blindfold covering his eyes. As with his ankles there were multiple straps the length of his body, which held his legs together, his arms to his torso and so on. The most disturbing restraint however was one that was placed over his mouth. A hole allowed him to breathe, but there was something so sinister about the strange apparatus that Picard felt a sense of revulsion that threatened to overwhelm his senses.

"Where did you get these-these things?" He demanded of Rolani, while he began to undo the restraints.

"They were here...here in this place you created to look like our world," she explained in confusion. "You created them."

He nodded grimly, as he quickly freed Li's arms and legs. The holodeck had simply done its job too well. These items must have been inside the abandoned village, and therefore had been replicated along with everything else. When he was finished, he sat back down cross-legged and glared at Rolani. Li rubbed his eyes and sat upright, bowing his head, which Picard now knew was the Tranans' customary way of greeting him.

Li's clothing, which had always been dirty and frayed, was covered with blood.

"What happened to you?" Picard demanded.

Rolani moved to Li's side, and began to smooth his hair affectionately. "We are sorry," she said. "We will not displease god again, will we?"

Li shook his head anxiously, and then buried his head in Rolani's neck.

 _They're like frightened children. Perhaps I needed Troi's help after all._

Picard got to his feet, now determined to get answers. "How many of your people have you done this to?"

Rolani shut her eyes and began to rock back and forth, still cradling Li in her arms.

"Answer me!"

"Oni..."

"The man who challenged you down on Trana?"

She nodded. "I punished him too...but he is gone now."

"Is he dead?"

"I don't know. I let him go. But now he is gone."

Picard sighed in frustration, grabbing the hypo spray and holding it up for Rolani to see. "I have to use this on Li. I promise it will not hurt him. But in order for me to properly protect you, I _must_ have your cooperation."

She nodded, and got up, pulling her brother with her.

"We will never question you, god. Never."

He activated the collection mode on the hypo spray and placed it against the man's neck. There was a hiss as the sample was collected. Fumbling with the tiny device he pulled out the vial, now full of Li's blood and placed it in the medical tricorder. The device whirred, and then told him what he already had guessed. The sample matched the blood from the village on Trana, as well as the unidentified blood from the corridor.

He turned Li's dirty face toward his, and saw several lacerations on his cheek. "He's injured. Who did this to him? You?"

Rolani shook her head wildly. "This is the way he returned to us. I swear to you, god."

Picard slapped his communicator. "Picard to Data."

 _"Data here."_

"Three to beam directly to my quarters."

* * *

 **Hi there, thanks for reading and reviewing. -PP**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Riker had waited so long for Del to answer the door that his resolve to confront the politician actually began to waver. Picard would not be happy, in fact he might issue Will a reprimand if the gamble of waking the Ciapathian Representative in the middle of the night didn't pay off with valuable information. Thankfully, Riker was a natural gambler. He knew his gut would not steer him wrong, and that coming to see Del could benefit Picard's negotiation leverage, and might even keep Del here longer to continue the investigation into Geordi's disappearance...if Riker played his cards right.

Finally Del came to the door, blinking in the brighter light of the corridor. He was holding his universal translator in-hand. "I don't like to be disturbed in my rest, Commander. Sharing a home with five wives and twenty-two offspring has many benefits, but rest isn't one."

Riker grinned down at the shorter man. "I wish I could say I could relate..."

"No you don't." He stretched his stout neck up at Will, and Riker recalled just how different physically Del was from the now deceased Premier Fon and his Chief of Arms Reth, who had both towered over him. "Let us skip the pandering, Riker. I hope that this visit means you have some important information...such as who murdered the leader of my people?"

Riker gestured behind Del into the guest quarters, and Del moved aside, letting him by. Riker made himself at home quickly, and sat down on a chair as Del glared at him with open suspicion. "I was hoping we could come to some kind of understanding," said Riker.

Del sat down slowly. "Such as?"

Riker leaned in with a smile that covered a simmering anger. "It's fairly straightforward...you want to know who killed Fon, and I want to know what happened to Lieutenant LaForge."

Del smiled back, with the ooze of a life long politician. "I'm not certain that I want to know who killed Fon...unless it benefits me," he added slowly.

Riker slapped his own knee. "Oh come on, Representative, you're playing it cool, but I can tell you want to know."

Del's plump fuschia cheeks quivered slightly. "The only thing I want to know, Commander Riker, is how to appease my people now that Fon is dead. I am currently the leader of the rival party on my planet. And I must use this tragedy to ensure that I will very soon be the leader of the ruling party. Understand?" He broke into a wide smile.

Riker nodded, looking down at the floor. "I understand you're scared...so you're putting up a front. You're also on the cusp of power. But don't you want to unite your people?"

"Sometimes the best way to unite a divided people is through war," said Del.

"Are you threatening war against the Federation? On what grounds?"

"Fon died on this ship...a Federation ship. Who killed him will matter much less to my people than _where_ he died. They will assume foul play."

"And you? What do you assume?"

"I assume that Fon had many, many enemies." Del got up. "I am growing tired again...you should have sent Captain Picard. At least he has the qualifications to back up his arrogance." He sneered down at Riker, who was still seated. "You are no negotiator."

Riker felt the muscles in his jaw and neck tighten, but he didn't take the bait. He stayed calm. "What's Reth still doing here?"

Del, who had been shuffling away, halted, before turning back around slowly. Something like doubt or fear flickered in his pale blue eyes. "Why do you ask me such a thing?"

"He could have returned with Dr. Petral to his ship...that's who he really answers to, right? So why is Reth still here?"

Del was now seething, and his fuschia skin deepened in color. "You don't know what you are talking about. You know nothing of our culture."

"I know enough to know that Petral manipulated Fon, and he's doing the same thing to you. Just consider this...if you declare war on the Federation, maybe it's not really what you want. Maybe you're doing it because Petral has you where he wants you."

* * *

Once they had materialized in his quarters, Picard ushered the two frightened Tranans to his couch, and told them to sit down. Of course, they obeyed without a word. They stared around his quarters wide-eyed.

He sat down in a chair opposite them, his mind racing. He rubbed his hands on his knees, feeling more agitated than he should have. But he felt he was close to something. "I've broken an important rule to bring you here...several perhaps. But...I believe it is for the best."

 _I'm staring at two human beings. But they don't know it. As long as Command can be convinced that they deserve protection, that is what matters._

"You know all, god. We trust your every word," said Rolani.

"Li..."

The young man's eyes widened, before he buried his face in Rolani's shoulder again. Rolani stroked Li's hair protectively. "I am sorry...he fears you. You are all powerful. You take us from Trana, saving us from the Brethren. Then you create a place for us to live, and you make us disappear and reappear again in a new place. Only god can do that."

Picard ran his hand over his scalp. "Rolani, I need to talk to Li. I need to know where he went that caused you to punish him...and I need to know what he saw."

"He is afraid to speak to you," said Rolani.

Picard sighed, and gripped his knees, before rising to his feet. "Come on," he said gesturing for them to get up. "It's late, and you should rest." Rolani helped Li up, and Picard led them toward his bedroom and pointed inside. "You can share that bed. I will sleep out here on the couch."

Rolani hesitated, and then looked at Picard with unmistakable fear in her eyes as she stared in at the empty bed. Before she could grab him, Li had wandered into the room and upon seeing the bed, began to shriek in a high pitched voice.

"What? Why is he screaming?" Picard demanded.

Li clasped his hands over his eyes and began screaming even more loudly. Rolani quickly hugged him, and his shouts gradually turned into whimpers.

Picard looked at them. "What is wrong?"

Rolani pointed at his bed. "That is what the Brethren use. We cannot go in that room."

Picard rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Fine. Please, rest wherever you feel most comfortable."

"We will sleep where you sleep."

"I'm not going to sleep anytime soon," Picard admitted tiredly.

"Then we will not sleep either," Rolani maintained.

Jean-Luc barely heard her as he walked away, knowing full well that he would not be able to get the information out of Li that he needed. Not without help. He was certain that Li had witnessed something after breaking out of the holodeck. It was even possible that Li had killed Fon himself, but the boy hardly seemed sophisticated enough to poison Fon without doing himself in as well. Of course, any kind of motive was as yet unclear. And something in his gut told him Li had not killed anyone...at least, not on purpose. Nevertheless, Li was the key to determining what happened to LaForge. And Li was human, as was Rolani and all of her people. Beverly had been correct in her suspicions, but he had been afraid to face such a strange truth. But his blood test of Li had confirmed it. Human clones existing on the edges of the Alpha Quadrant, outside of Federation territory. How had they arrived here? He turned around and was watching the two Tranan's silently, when his communicator buzzed.

 _"Data to Captain Picard."_

Momentarily surprised, Picard hesitated before hitting his badge. "Go ahead."

 _"As you requested I tested the residue from the crime scene, and re-examined the possible sources of the power surge which occurred in the corridor roughly around the time Dr. Crusher estimated Premier Fon died."_

"And?"

 _"I enlisted the assistance of Doctor Francis, sir-"_

"The mineralogist? Why?"

" _I found traces of the mineral Andurine, Captain. I believe that an extremely sophisticated cloaked transporter technology was used around the time of Fon's death-"_

"And Geordi's disappearance," said Picard, feeling his spirits finally begin to rise, if just a little. "Which means he might still be alive."

* * *

 **The Laboratory**

The pinching was painful, but quick. Hundreds of swift stabs to his flesh. Just when he thought it was over, it would begin again.

The voices were constant. A guttural speech LaForge did not understand. Sometimes he believed he saw a shadow nearby, but that couldn't be. His Visor was gone, and he was unable to see. But he was awake, which meant he was still alive.

* * *

"Compared to what we have been dealing with, this one is a very fine specimen," he heard a voice say. "Is the translator working now? I want him to hear the superiority of his captors." It was a weirdly sinister voice, and didn't inspire any kind of hope that the speaker would allow him to leave.

"Approximately twenty-eight human years, not too tall, but in good health. He is a male. His sight is naturally compromised...but corrected with an interesting prosthetic. Not as sophisticated as mine, but clever."

"Shall we continue the testing, Doctor?" Another voice was speaking now just on the other side of him.

"Yes. Continue sampling. If his skin becomes too damaged, use a dermal repair. I don't want to have to run the same tests on Beverly Crusher. It is best if she is untouched when we marry. But of course, I will do what needs to be done."

"Yes, Doctor Petral."

* * *

 **Hello, Thanks for asking, Dancing Doc. Yes I will be finishing "A Full Circle", but the way I am currently writing, I can't easily jump from story to story and provide quality updates. So I get on a roll with a story and then try and update another one when I have time. I'd like to finish this one soon, because it's more like an episode and has a simpler plot. Thanks as always for your readership. And please excuse the typos, I'm hella sleepy. -PP**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

When Beverly woke up the next morning, she was greeted by the ship's intercom. " _This is Captain Picard. Senior Officers are to report to conference room one at 0800 hours."_

She tugged at her grey regulation issued nightgown, which had twisted around her body while she had slept. The air near the window above her pillow was cold, probably due to the fact that her sleeping area was just feet away from the transparent material that served as her window into space. She'd forgotten the strange details of living on board a star ship. For a time she had lived on board the USS Stargazer, but it had been short-lived, what with her changing professional opportunities and having a child. The Stargazer hadn't been the kind of family-accommodating ship that Starfleet intended the new Enterprise to be, and because of this, she and Jack had agreed to live apart with frequent visits of course. She had always wondered if it irked Jean-Luc when Jack left to visit her and Wesley on Earth. Or perhaps it hadn't mattered to him at all.

She found it ironic that Jean-Luc had become Captain of the Enterprise, even with the full awareness that there would be children on board, when he himself was the least accommodating captain when it came to families. At least that is what Jack had always told her, and based on her first few weeks working with him again, Jack was right. Jack often was. When she was on improved speaking terms with the Captain again-and she knew it would happen, perhaps she would ask him about it. She rubbed her eyes, still exhausted because she really had not slept much at all. Yawning, she looked sideways across the room, and had a moment of alarm, then irritation, remembering the events of the previous evening. _He still has my med kit. It had better be just how I left it._ Finally her bleary gaze rested on the clock.

Just now seeing the time, she nearly catapulted out of her bed. "Shit!" She had slept in much later than usual, and she had only a few minutes to get up to the bridge. "This had better be a quick meeting." As she quickly began to dress, she rushed over to the wall to check and see if a briefing had accompanied the Captain's message. Her inbox was empty. She hopped out of her bedroom, pulling her boots on as she went. "Nope...no briefing. He can't even be bothered to let us know what we'll be talking about. And it's not as if I have no other work to do."

 _Meetings! Can't stand them._ She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth, then made the mistake of gulping down a replicated a glass of orange juice too fast. " _Ugh_...Wesley!" She called out, racing toward her son's room. "Wes, I've got a meeting to go to." She walked over to his bedroom, surprised to find his door open. Lately all he did was stay in his room with the door closed.

"You're going to be late for school," she said leaning in. "What the _hell_?!"

Wesley sat up in bed, instantly awake, and the person beside him rolled clumsily out onto the floor. It was Wesley's Ciapathian crush, Hatha. The girl, who was thankfully clothed-they both were, knelt on the floor, clutching Wesley's pillow protectively in front of her. Beverly reminded herself that the teenage Ciapathian had just lost her father, Premier Fon, and so it did no one any good to start screaming at the poor girl. Still, she really wanted to. Beverly ran her hands anxiously over the top of her hair, before putting her hands on her hips. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Mom, she can't understand you, you don't have your universal translator on," Wesley offered helpfully, patting his tousled hair, as though concerned for his appearance.

"I was _talking_ to you, Wesley Crusher."

"It's-it's not what it seems like."

"Oh? You're only 15 years old, Wesley...what are you doing in bed with this girl?"

"Nothing happened, Mom. And I'm going to be 16 in a few months."

"Captain Picard told you to stay away from her, and you really just did the complete opposite, didn't you? Do you realize that we're in the middle of a political stand-off with her people right now? Now I know you have raging hormones, which is natural, but-"

"Mom! She was sad and wanted to talk. And then we fell asleep, that's it."

Hatha was getting up from the floor slowly, staring at Beverly with frightened eyes. Her bright skin had flushed a deep shade of pink.

Beverly glanced again at the clock. "You're making me late for my meeting," she accused her son.

"You hate meetings, Mom."

She glared at him. "Where is she _supposed_ to be staying right now?"

"With Representative Del's daughters in the guest quarters. Her mother is ill, and on the lead Ciapathian ship."

Feeling an invasion of sympathy, Beverly forced a smile, and beckoned the girl closer. "Come on, I'll take you back to your quarters." Hatha hesitated, and had the nerve to give Wesley a parting look, but seemed to understand that she should probably not hang around much longer. Beverly put an arm around the girl's shoulders and began to escort her away.

"Mom!"

"Go to _school_ , Wesley. We'll chat about this later."

* * *

Yar's head snapped up, as he walked on to the bridge. "The Ciapathian fleet parked outside our front door now numbers at thirty, Captain. They've brought in eight more ships just in the last two hours."

"Yes, Lieutenant, I can see we're outnumbered," Picard said flatly. "But as you well know, we are not at war with the Ciapathian fleet."

 _Not yet_ , thought Yar.

"The meeting takes priority now," he said gesturing toward the conference room.

"Aye sir."

"Mr. Worf, please relieve Chief Yar at tactical."

The large officer pushed away the ops control panel and got up without a word. He glowered as he passed by, but then Picard had already noted that this was the Klingon's standard expression. He watched as Worf took his post, confidently draping his hands behind his back as he silently studied the tactical monitor. Picard felt an odd swell of pride, which dissipated when he glanced at the helm; a constant reminder that Geordi was no longer with them.

Feeling Yar's curious but respectful gaze on him, he turned briskly and walked into the conference room.

* * *

Data, Riker, and Troi were already present, and the large wall monitor was visible, awaiting a transmission from Command that the captain wasn't very excited to receive. He and Yar sat down just as Doctor Crusher burst through the doors in a hurry.

The Captain raised an eyebrow as she whisked by him and nearly threw herself into a chair next to Data. She was out of breath and somewhat disheveled, but he supposed it was probably going to be that kind of morning. "Well then...now that we're all present." He leaned forward and tapped at a control on the table, activating the wall monitor, then clasped his hands together on the table in front of him.

"Before we hear from Starfleet Command, I should tell you that overnight there was a new and significant development in our search for Mr. LaForge. Data and Lieutenant Yar have possibly identified the power surge in the east corridor near the crime scene as a highly advanced transporter, using of all things-Andurine, the cloaking mineral we were tasked with surveying in this sector, with Ciapathian permission of course. The Ciapathians rule this sector of space, and our primary purpose was to determine whether or not they are ready for entry as a societal member of the Federation. But then their political leader, Premier Fon was murdered on our ship, less than 48 hours ago. At the same time, our colleague Mr. LaForge disappeared, with clues leading us to believe he had been seriously injured. Now this unauthorized possible transport raises suspicion that he has in fact been kidnapped."

The faces of the officers around the table were intense, all feeling something different, and yet the same.

"Very early this morning, I demanded that the interim Premier Del, who is currently still on board the Enterprise, provide us with all records of transport from his ships in our vicinity, covering the last 48 hours."

Riker, who looked somewhat surprised, leaned in. "His answer, sir?"

"None yet," said the captain tightly. "Put simply, my demand, as well as other apparent concerns...has prompted Starfleet Command to call this meeting with you all here." Without another word, he touched the control pad on the table lightly, and the screen flashed on.

A tall grey-haired Admiral was just seating himself behind a desk at Headquarters. He stared impassively into the screen. _"Are all your senior officers present, Captain?"_

"Yes, Admiral Forrester. Admiral, if I might ask, where is Vice Admiral Nechayev? The last I knew she was assigned to this matter."

 _"Make a note for your records that she has been reassigned to other matters, Captain,"_ the man replied coldly. " _We are on the brink of war...I should think you would be more concerned about that fact."_

"War?"

 _"Captain, according to your report you demanded that the Ciapathians hand over their transport records, is that correct?"_

"Yes sir."

 _"On what authority did you make this request?"_

Picard frowned, but kept his expression calm. "I'm in the middle of two possible murder investigations, Admiral. I have every authority under numerous regulations to pursue such matters on my ship."

 _"Under normal circumstances, I would agree, Captain. But the Ciapathians could be a monumental asset to the Federation, and you are not exactly welcoming them. Your demands of them are being interpreted as accusatory. I will remind you that your primary goal is still to assess their readiness to enter our society, not to antagonize them."_

"With all due respect, Admiral, my helmsman has been missing for two days. He is likely injured or dead, and-"

 _"Yes, Captain, as I said, I read your report."_

Picard clasped his hands tightly, but remained silent.

 _"It is crucial, Captain, that given your recent careless violations of the Prime Directive that you keep the goals of the Federation in focus. Now I have spoken with Representative Del and he has denied your request. In addition, he has demanded to be released to his ship immediately. You will comply, is that understood?"_

There was a long silence, and Picard felt his officers staring at him. "Yes," he said finally, careful to keep his voice calm.

Admiral Forrester seemed to relax considerably, but his face was still tense. _"Now to the other matter."_

"Sir?"

 _"The pre-warp race which you claim in your report-without evidence I might add-to be human beings."_

"Yes. They are human beings." Picard glanced around the table briefly, to see open expressions of shock on the faces of his officers. Beverly was watching him carefully, as the Admiral continued, no doubt remembering his own skepticism at her suggestion that the blood she tested from Trana IV might be human.

 _"According to your report, you tested the blood of one such alien without his consent-"_

"I obtained his permission, Admiral."

"Simply b _y asking his permission you violated the Prime Directive."_

"The Tranans are human clones, Admiral Forrester. Therefore there was no violation."

 _"Where is the evidence to support this? Has this information been verified by your Chief Medical Officer?"_

Picard took a deep breath, and glanced at Beverly who had a complex expression on her face. "No sir. Not fully."

 _"So none of the officers currently present was aware of what you were doing last night with these Tranans?"_

"No sir."

 _"And why even report it? To what end?"_

"The young man I tested...Li is is name...I believe that he witnessed the murder of Premier Fon, and possibly witnessed what happened to Lieutenant LaForge."

 _"Based on what?"_

"It's all in my report sir," Picard maintained. "But I believe we can learn the truth of what happened, by questioning this man."

" _Are the Ciapathians aware of this...witness?"_

"No. Not yet."

 _"How can you be sure he is not the murderer? According to your report, he escaped the holodeck and when he reappeared there he was injured."_

Picard shook his head. "The evidence doesn't favor the conclusion that he murdered Fon."

Admiral Forrester shook his head with apparent disgust. " _You have 72 hours to clear this person of the murder of Premier Fon, and if you are unable to do so, you will hand him over to the Ciapathians for prosecution. Do you understand?"_

"I understand, Admiral, but I'm afraid I cannot agree."

 _"Are you refusing to obey my orders?"_

This time, the captain did not hesitate. "Yes. This man and his people we rescued from a reportedly uninhabited world are human beings-"

"Clones," clarified Forrester.

"But humans, nonetheless. Which means pursuant to our laws they have automatic citizenship in the Federation, and they cannot simply be extradited without a trial. They have rights, Admiral, which must be respected."

Forrester smiled thinly. _"You have 72 hours, Captain Picard. Forrester out."_

* * *

Picard stared at his reflection on the obsidian table. The room remained silent for a few minutes, before Riker spoke up. "Captain, you did the right thing. We can figure this out in 72 hours."

"And get Geordi back," said Yar.

"Captain," said Troi pensively. "The Admiral is worried you will uncover something that will jeopardize the Federation's relationship with Ciapathia. He is very sincere in his desire for them to enter the Federation."

"Of course he is," Picard murmured. "But why are the Ciapathians so important to Starfleet?"

"The Ciapathians' control over all known sources of Andurine would be my guess, Captain," said Data.

"Data, you're learning to guess?" Troi smiled genuinely. "How wonderful."

"I am still developing the correct program Counselor," he replied.

Picard cleared his throat. "Alright. Let's get back to work. And stay aware...and safe. Dismissed."

* * *

Riker remained seated, which the captain decided to let slide for the moment. Meanwhile as others filed out, Crusher stopped next to him. There was a look of something in her eyes he had seen before but could not quite identify. She broke his gaze, with a more professional glance at Riker, before crossing her arms. "You said Li was injured. How badly?"

"Some cuts on his face...which should be tested for evidence along with his clothes."

"I'll go to the holodeck right now," she said.

"Actually, both Rolani and Li are in my quarters."

She smiled at him. "Will I find my med kit there as well?"

"Yes, Doctor, I believe so."

She nodded once more before exiting the room swiftly.

Riker watched her go, before turning back to Picard. "Sir...I know you were trying to shield the rest of us from violating regulations...but I wish you had kept me in the loop on this." _I wish you would just trust me,_ he added silently.

Picard sat back in his chair and regarded his first officer with a small smile. "Just as you kept _me_ in the loop when you woke up Del in the middle of the night to try and press him for information?"

Riker nodded slightly. _Touche'._

Picard got to his feet. "Perhaps we should go and talk to him together this time," he suggested. Riker could not believe that the captain's hard exterior had cracked if only minimally to give way to a knowing smile.

"I thought we were under orders to release him..."

"I told the Admiral I would release Del right away, and I will do so. However, I have every intention of trying to convince him it is in his interest to stay on board."

Riker broke into a grin. "Sounds like a plan, Captain."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for reading and for your spirited reviews. Probably some weird events will happen in the next few chapters (even I don't really know), so thanks for following along. Will update again soon. Best -PP**


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Geordi kicked his legs frantically, but his legs were pinned down securely. The strange gravelly voice spoke into his ear. Sometimes he could understand it, although he had learned already, that when he could understand the words, his situation grew worse.

"What happened to your eyes? Were you born this way?"

LaForge turned his face away from the voice and shut his eyes tightly.

"Shutting your eyes will not save them from my curiosity, human."

He felt the restraints tighten, and a surge of desperate energy made him thrash around wildly. "Let me go!"

"Ah, finally we have speech from this one." When the voice spoke again it sounded farther away. "Give him a reward."

Almost immediately, LaForge felt a pleasantly warm sensation flooding through his veins. Presently, he couldn't feel the restraints anymore, and when he heard the voice order the next procedure, his body was too relaxed to object. "Prepare the water chamber," the voice said.

* * *

When Beverly walked in to the captain's quarters part of her expected to see the entire group of Tranans wandering around, but of course, it was just Rolani and Li. And they weren't wandering, they were sleeping curled up on the floor of the dining area. Plates of food which the captain had apparently replicated for them sat on the table, untouched.

Rolani was the first to wake up, and for the first time since Beverly had met her, she didn't seem startled or afraid. Instead she stretched leisurely as she uncurled from her sleeping position and blinked at Beverly a few times before seeming to recognize her. Then surprisingly, she smiled.

Beverly spotted her med kit and tricorder nearby and picked them up, holding them in her lap as she sat down carefully at the table, still aware that the Tranans were easily intimidated by sudden movements. But oddly enough, there was a new confidence in Rolani's gaze. Beverly wasn't entirely sure how to interpret it.

"Hello," said Beverly, making sure her translator was on. She noted that Jean -Luc had affixed communicators to the tattered clothes of both Tranans to aid with translation.

Rolani stayed down on the floor, but moved into a cross-legged sitting position. "Our god has left us."

"He'll be...I mean, _Captain Picard_ will be back. This is his living space."

"You also live here?"

"No...I live down the hall."

"Hall? "

Beverly hesitated. "Um...never mind." There were basic concepts she took for granted which the Tranans would not comprehend, especially with no previous exposure to Federation technologies. She knew that Jean-Luc's simple decision to remove these two Tranans from the holodeck was seen with great skepticism by Command, and she had no intention of making things more difficult for him in that regard, by trying to educate them about their culture. He had made the decision with much thought, she could tell, and she supported him in that. Something in her grew still at the memory of how he had appeared during the meeting with Admiral Forrester; completely calm, yet determined to do the right thing. It was something she felt she could take comfort in. She had accused him of not taking action, when in reality he had wanted her to get out of the way so he could do just that. He had been trying to ensure that the decision remained his own, and thereby keeping the repercussions for himself as well. As much as she didn't want to see him reprimanded, she admired what he had done.

So she decided to try and focus on the reason she had come to his quarters, which was to give medical attention to Li. She could see that the cuts on his face were not serious, but the question remained: how had he gotten them in the first place? Because his wounds didn't seem serious, she decided to let him sleep.

Instead, she picked up her tricorder and opened it. The results from Li's DNA test were still on the screen. She smiled to herself at the way the captain had chosen to use the tricorder, which hadn't exactly been in keeping with medical protocols. He'd been in a hurry, and not entirely sure of what he was doing; that much was clear. However, he had been successful in confirming a match with the blood from the scene of Fon's death. She frowned, reviewing the results more closely. Or had he? There was a slight variation in the sample she had obtained from the soil on Trana, the sample from the crime scene, and this new sample from Li. She quickly ran her own tests, and found her curiosity growing. What she could tell now, is that all three samples had similarly cloned DNA, but there were also many variations between clones, suggesting sophisticated genetic engineering at work. She shut her tricorder, resolving to conduct a more complete test once she arrived at her lab.

She looked over at Li, who was now waking up and rubbing his eyes. Without speaking, he got up and snatched a bowl of grapes from the table and began eating them as though he had never eaten before. He watched Beverly wordlessly, as he shoveled the fruit into his mouth.

Rolani had been contemplating something seriously while Crusher was fiddling with her tricorder, and now spoke again. "Captain Picard is his name..."

"Yes," Beverly confirmed, brightly, hoping this meant some kind of progress.

"Captain Picard is our god."

Beverly shook her head vehemently. "No... he's not."

"Why do you deceive us? He is the one who took us from Trana, saving us from the Brethren. He tells others what to do and they obey."

Beverly lifted her eyebrows, aware she could not argue with those last two statements. "But that doesn't make him a god."

"Why not?"

Beverly again found herself at a loss for words. "He would be the first person to tell you that he's not a god," she said finally.

"Only the true god would deny his power."

Beverly began to find herself annoyed by the completely circular argument.

"You are also a god, but pretend not to be," Rolani was saying. "A deceitful god. But it is not for me to question why."

"No, Rolani, I am not a god. I'm a human being."

Rolani didn't seem surprised by such a revelation. "Where is your home?"

"We're from Earth...originally."

"What is Earth?"

Beverly sighed. _Does she understand the concept that Trana is a planet?_ "Earth is a place with trees..."

Rolani nodded, seeming to understand.

"And oceans..."

Rolani tilted her head at that.

"And animals, and many, many people...like you and me," Beverly finished, gesturing at Rolani. "Similar in a way to Trana, the place where we found you. Your home."

Rolani, who had seemed to be following along, suddenly shook her head violently; apparently a gesture they had in common. "Trana is not our home."

Beverly shifted her position a little to get a better look at Rolani's expression. "What do you mean? We found your village..."

"We were not on Trana for very long. All go there before they are no more."

Beverly felt a distinct chill, remembering that the Brethren were the shadow hanging over the entire reason the Enterprise crew had found the Tranans hiding in those dark caves. "I don't understand...will you tell me more?"

"We all go there when we are ready to be Chosen."

"What does it mean? That word...Chosen."

"No one knows because no one survives to tell. But when we can give no more to the Brethren, to be Chosen is our fate. But all of that has changed now that Captain Picard, our god has saved us."

Beverly closed her eyes, trying to be patient. It was clear Rolani was completely sincere in her beliefs. And she persisted. "I think you are also a god...but I will believe whatever you say, even if you lie to me. Because you are god."

Beverly reached out to touch the woman, trying to implore her understanding. "No, no...I'm not a god. I'm a human being." She took in a sharp breath. "And so are you." She added, but immediately regretted saying it, and wondered if the captain would be irritated to know she'd done such a thing.

But Rolani once again didn't seem to find the term "human" strange at all, even applied to her. She just kept talking.

"But you have the ability to heal," said Rolani. "I have seen and felt it for myself."

"Yes. Here...in our culture we have certain jobs."

Rolani wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

"We have duties...or roles. My role is to help people heal from wounds and diseases, or to prevent those diseases if I can."

Rolani stared at her blankly. "You are here now to help Li."

Beverly nodded with a smile. "Yes. But I'll wait until he is done eating."

Rolani suddenly stood up and clapped her hands loudly at Li, who dropped the grapes he was devouring and sat down on the floor obediently.

Beverly had an instinctively negative reaction, but decided not to interfere with the Tranans' relationship.

She knelt down and began to attend to Li's wounds, preserving tiny tissue samples for later examination. She ran the tricorder over his skin, hair and clothes, capturing the same organic data that would hopefully reveal where Li had been during the time he'd been injured. She wasn't sure if she should be relieved or dismayed that she found no DNA from Geordi on Li or his clothing. But what she did find, was that there was some slight variation in the blood on the young man's skin and clothes. She wasn't quite sure how to approach this information at the moment without further study. And, to her growing alarm she found DNA which matched Premier Fon's, putting Li squarely at the crime scene. She knew that this information was going to make life even more difficult for Jean-Luc, so she checked it again. It was still a match.

After cleaning and starting the healing process for Li's injuries, she brought the tricorder over to an access panel and removed the tricorder's data chip, plugging it into the wall. She pressed a code, sending a copy of the information to Lieutenant Yar.

She turned at the sound of something being rearranged on the other side of the room. Rolani had picked up an object from a counter top and walked closer to Beverly, holding it while studying it in fascination. She held it up to the light and Beverly could see that it was an empty water glass. "This is like our home," she said gripping the glass, and holding it forward. "This is where we come from."

* * *

Del was not right at the door when Picard and Riker arrived at his quarters. Still the door opened, and they walked in. Del and his wife were speaking in a highly agitated chatter, as several of his young children marched around carrying various items. Open suitcases lay strewn about the place. Clearly, there was some kind of intent to leave the Enterprise, however unorganized.

"Where is she? She's coming with us. She needs our protection!"

"She's with that human boy again, I'll bet," said his wife. "Let her stay here. Have you considered if we bring her back to our ship she will be anything _but_ protected?"

Riker cleared his throat, and felt Picard roll his disapproving gaze over him.

"We don't mean to interrupt," said Picard, "but as I indicated Representative Del, we do need to speak with you."

"I already denied your request for our transport records. Did your commanding officer not tell you this?"

"Yes, he told me," said Picard. "And Mr. Riker told me that you looked frightened when he mentioned Chief of Arms Reth. And I want to know why."

Del gave his wife a meaningful look before guiding the two humans toward a table nearby. "Come, let us sit down."

"Have you considered that Reth may have killed Fon?" Riker was the first to speak, and he could see that this annoyed the captain by the way the muscles in his jaw twitched. Still he kept his eyes patiently on Del.

"Reth worked for Fon and the ruling party," said Del. "Therefore he is not someone I am eager to trust... however that does not make him a murderer. Do you have evidence to support such an accusation?"

This time, Picard shot Riker a warning look.

Del continued. "Besides, if he was working for Premier Fon, Fon was his benefactor. In our society, you don't kill the man who is responsible for your political power. And in my society, political power is life."

Picard tapped his index finger on the table in front of him. "Del...I think we both know who Reth really works for. It is Dr. Petral you are truly frightened of...and for the short time I knew Premier Fon, he also appeared unsettled by Petral."

Del looked over at Picard, fully aware that Riker was sitting close by on the other side of the table glaring down at him. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I know only rumors about Petral. Meeting him in person has only solidified my opinion that he is a highly disturbed individual. But he is also extremely powerful and protected."

"You said you knew about rumors," ventured Riker.

"He marries...frequently. And his wives disappear, one by one, never to be seen again."

"And why isn't this man in custody?" Picard demanded, outraged. "Surely as a person with considerable political power you can _do_ something?"

"The ruling party has held power for many years. And this means they have kept many secrets as well, that I as the leader of the opposition party have not had at my disposal. What I can tell you is that Fon was not the first Premier to stand in the shadow of Petral."

"And he won't be the last," said Riker. "Is that why you won't help us find the truth? Petral already has a handle on you, doesn't he?"

Del pounded his fist on the table. "He most certainly does not!"

"Then stay and help us find out what happened to Fon...and Lieutenant LaForge. You owe it to them and to your people," the captain said quietly.

 _"Security to Captain Picard."_

The captain glanced at Riker as he tapped his chest. "Picard here."

 _"Captain in the last twenty minutes, I've received reports of five missing crew members. They've simply disappeared without a trace, sir."_

Picard and Riker stood up almost at once. _"Run an immediate ship-wide sweep, Lieutenant."_

 _"I already have sir. I've got patrols roaming the ship, but so far...nothing."_

"Yar, this is Riker. Send us the list of missing crew immediately."

 _"Aye sir. Also...Captain, Doctor Crusher sent me some samples sir...you'll need to see these right away."_

Del stood up. "Sounds as if you have business to attend to. I trust that if you have any new evidence exposing the murderer, Captain, you will inform me?"

Picard nodded. "Of course. We have no reason to hide what we find."

Del waved to his wife. "We'll stay a bit longer, my dear." He turned back to Picard with a slight smile. "For the good of our people."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Beverly finished attending to the Tranans, and in the process had even convinced them to take sonic showers, a process they seemed strangely delighted by. She felt certain the captain would have to admit that the benefits gained by having the two visitors smelling better, outweighed the few moments of exposure to modern technology. She found herself smiling, as though in silent conversation with him, but her smile faded when she rounded the corner and saw someone standing outside of her quarters. Someone large. Then she recognized him: the Ciapathian Chief of Arms, who had tried to kidnap Fon's teenage daughter Hatha for some kind of arranged marriage to the disgusting Dr. Petral. She halted, feeling an immediate chill of unexplained terror, but then quickly coming to her senses, she walked forward confidently.

"Excuse me," she said, walking up to the very tall, fuschia-skinned alien.

He turned immediately to smile down at her. It was not a friendly smile. "Hello, Doctor Crusher. Can I help you?"

She crossed her arms and returned his fake smile. "Why don't I throw that question right back at you, Reth? After all, you're the one stalking outside of my quarters."

"Stalking?" he laughed, and exposed a row of very shiny teeth. "Hunting is one of my hobbies. Strange... you must have instinctively sensed that about me. No wonder Doctor Petral finds you so...intriguing."

"What are you doing here?"

He tapped the end of a long metallic staff twice on the deck. "I was just leaving," he said, beginning to walk away.

"You didn't answer my question," she called after him.

He glanced back over his shoulder at her. "Oh don't worry, I have a feeling we shall see one another again soon. Ask me then."

She watched him finish his journey down the corridor before she allowed herself to breathe fully.

* * *

Riker activated his data pad, once he and Picard stepped outside in the corridor. "Captain, here's the list of the new missing crew members." He paused, feeling visceral disgust welling in his throat. "Doctor Selar...Research assistant Lau Wu, astrophysics teacher Marta Sedgewick, Senior Technician Terrence Davis, and Mineralogist ...Dr. Francis."

Picard smoothed the front of his uniform, in a subconscious effort to still the turmoil threatening his outward calm, as he took the pad from Riker. "This cannot continue," he murmured, confirming for himself the disturbing information on the screen. At least one civilian gone. This is why he'd never agreed with Starfleet's need to create a class of starship that carried civilian passengers...and yet here he was commanding one. Few things bothered him more than the thought of endangered innocent lives on board his own ship. He handed the pad back to Riker.

"Sir, I recommend-"

"Thank you, Commander, I'll handle this issue until further notice."

 _What?_ "Captain, with all due respect, I was _handling_ this investigation."

Picard was unmoved. "Commander, you took it upon yourself to usurp my diplomatic duties without informing me, when you paid a surprise visit to Representative Del. And when I decided to bring you along to meet with him, you began the conversation by suggesting to Del that Reth murdered his Premier-"

"Captain, you have to admit it's crossed your mind too-"

"Commander Riker, do you think I advanced so swiftly to the rank of Captain by saying everything that happened to cross my mind?"

Will clasped the data pad in front of him, conscious that his body language was defensive, but sometimes arguing with Picard was sort of like defending against a kick in the balls. "No sir," he replied tightly.

"However sir," he added, apparently a glutton for punishment. "This is technically a personnel issue...the people who've gone missing."

"Technically, _perhaps_. But under these circumstances, it is more appropriately part of the investigation which I have now taken over."

Picard looked like he was about to turn and make one of his signature departures, so Will tried to prolong the conversation with the aim of ending on a better note. "Sir, there's something else that's bothering me. I don't know if you noticed, but when we entered, Del and his wife were talking about Wesley Crusher, and his girlfriend-"

"Hatha...yes, I did notice." Suddenly something seemed to occur to Picard, and he brightened considerably. "Now _there's_ a personnel issue I need you to handle, Riker! Keep that boy out of trouble and out of my negotiations. He's caused far too many problems already, and I need him out of matters he has no business in."

"Sir, I was more concerned about Hatha. I think she's at risk."

"You may be correct," Picard admitted. "It appears that she was promised to Petral in some kind of...arranged marriage. But according to Del, he intends to protect her from Petral, and seems sincere in this regard."

Will nodded in agreement. "I'll keep an extra eye on her. But sir...back to Mr. Crusher. Wesley's _just_ a kid."

Picard continued to watch him with a slightly disturbed expression, as though Riker had just grown a pair of antennae on top of his head.

"I think he's just infatuated-well, you know how it is being a teenage boy..." _Or maybe you don't...maybe instead you sprung from the stars a fully grown star ship captain,_ reconsidered Riker silently.

Picard's face remained unreadable, but Will thought he detected a glimmer of understanding and perhaps mild amusement in the captain's cool eyes. But then Picard's head snapped around at the sound of giggling down the hall behind them. Riker followed the captain's gaze and sighed out loud, rubbing his brow.

"Hatha! Hatha, give it back, I'm serious!"

The Ciapathian teen was sprinting down the hall towards them, with Wesley right on her heels. Seeing the two Starfleet officers made her skid to a stop, and Wesley had a chance to quickly retrieve the combadge she had clasped in her palm. Out of breath, Wesley shoved the communicator in his pocket and addressed the Captain. "Captain! Captain, I have something _really_ important to tell you..."

To Wesley's shock, the captain ignored him and addressed his first officer. "Handle this, Mr. Riker." Will worked his jaw and watched as Picard walked briskly away. Presently he turned back to the anxious teen. "You were saying?"

* * *

Picard handed Yar a data pad, and slumped back in the chair behind his desk. A few minutes earlier, he had just notified the relatives of the missing crew members about their tragic disappearance, reassuring them that he was doing everything in his power to find them. Dealing with distraught family members had never been his strong suit, and yet out of unfortunate necessity he was well-practiced at it. But the news continued to move from bad to worse. "Lieutenant, are you honestly telling me you have found no evidence to explain the disappearance of our crew members?"

"Unfortunately...yes sir. No residue from a power surge, no evidence of transport, and no evidence of foul play. They're just...gone, sir."

 _Damn. Damn. Damn._ "Continue to work with Mr. Data on this, Lieutenant. Every avenue must be explored if we are to solve this mystery and recover our people."

"Aye sir."

He watched her exit his ready room, and then brought some information up on his personal view screen. It was Crusher's analysis from her examination of Li. The more he read, the more his heart sank. He had promised Del he would reveal information which might reveal Fon's killer. Now faced with evidence that placed Li at the crime scene, he would have to think and act quickly. He re-read Beverly's recitation of the DNA results once more, and realized that she had found something significant. There was additional blood at the scene, which could not absolutely be identified as Li's. What did it mean? The man Rolani had punished had gone missing as well. Perhaps he had been involved in this bloody scene as well. It became clearer than ever that he would never reach the answers he needed without Li's cooperation. And he couldn't do it alone. He hesitated, before reaching for the communications link again.

"Counselor Troi, please report to my ready room."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks again for your continuing interest in this story. I will try and post again very soon. -PP**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Wesley craned his neck up at Riker for a good 10 seconds before uttering another word. He had been on his way to visit the captain, and Hatha had been teasing him a bit. But their mutual aim had actually been serious. They had been rushing to the bridge to reach Captain Picard to ask him to find out about Hatha's mother, when they ran unexpectedly into Picard and Riker. Hatha's mother who had already been ill, had suffered a stroke and then fallen into a coma upon learning of her husband, Premier Fon's sudden violent death. Hatha was convinced that her mother was in danger, and not just from her serious illness.

Finally he found his voice again. "I'm sorry, sir. I needed to ask Captain Picard something, but he's obviously-"

"Busy?" Riker raised a half-amused eyebrow. _He's busy with real work and I get to handle multi-species teenage angst._

"Yes sir, he seemed really busy. The problem is...um..." Wesley trailed off and looked at Hatha uncertainly.

"My mother is in danger! Dr. Petral is poisoning her, I just know it," the young Ciapathian suddenly blurted out. "You have to do something!"

Riker grew serious. "How do you know he's poisoning your mother? I'm truly sorry that your mother is so ill, Hatha...but you can't be sure-"

"I am," she insisted, her confidence growing. "Petral is sadistic, Commander. He killed my father because my father didn't want me to marry Petral, and now he's taking my mother from me too. Once she's dead Petral will come for me." She covered her eyes with her hands, and Riker was struck by how human the gesture seemed. "You have to do something. Please..."

"Hatha...Wesley, I'll let the Captain know, and I appreciate you bringing this to my attention."

"But can't we talk to the Captain? What if what is happening to Hatha's mother is connected to the Ascension, Commander?" Wesley pressed. "Wouldn't the Captain want to know?"

Riker sighed. "We don't even know what the Ascension is. Do we?" he asked, turning back to Hatha.

"The Ascension is...it's central to my society. You see, we are dying as a species...at least that is what I have always been taught. And the Ascension will save us."

"But...what exactly is it?" Wesley asked.

"I don't know really," she admitted. "Maybe that's why Dr. Petral has so much power; because only he knows the key to saving us all. But that was all before I came on board and met Del. According to Del, he's never heard of the Ascension, and he's a very powerful person."

"I agree, this is all very strange, but I still don't see the connection with your mother, Hatha," Riker said gently. "I'm not certain Captain Picard will have time to meet with you right now, but I'll let him know everything you just told me." He put a brief hand on Wesley's shoulder before turning and walking away in the other direction.

Wesley and Hatha turned at the sound of footsteps behind them.

"Wesley!" said Beverly Crusher, gesturing at him in a no-nonsense manner. "Come with me, you're not leaving my side until we find out what the hell is going on around here."

"What are you talking about?"

"People are disappearing around us. First Geordi, now Doctor Selar and four other people, just vanished into thin air."

"Is that why they let us out of school early?"

"Probably." She looked at Hatha. "Shouldn't you be with Del? Neither of you should be roaming the halls right now."

Hatha looked at Wesley, and with his mother still watching him, he suddenly felt more scrutinized than ever before. "Um...we were on our way to see Captain Picard."

Beverly crossed her arms. "Why?"

Wesley straightened bravely. "Hatha's mother is in danger, and we were hoping the Captain could help her." They attempted to explain what they had told Riker, although Wesley left out the fact that they had already explained all of this to Riker.

Beverly remained deadly serious while listening. The odd feeling came back to her; the one she experienced while in the presence of both Petral and Reth. Suddenly she snapped out of it. "I think Petral is behind this-all of this, and I'm going to meet with the Captain right now." She began to march toward a turbo lift, before halting to look back at them. "Come on, you're both coming with me."

Without hesitation, Wesley grabbed Hatha's hand and rushed after his mother.

* * *

"I need your assistance, Counselor," Picard said more gruffly than he intended, tossing the data pad he was reading down on his desk with a clatter.

Troi sat down carefully, but was unable to keep the look of honest surprise from her expression. "Sir?"

"Well, Counselor, you needn't look so damn _shocked_. After all, you've been offering your assistance to me for three weeks straight now...eventually I had to give in." He cleared his throat and gave her a small smile, as one emerged in her own features.

"Captain, I can't imagine you ever giving in... so to speak, but I certainly would like to be of help to you."

He folded his hands in front of him. "Good. I've been thinking, Counselor, and in order to get to the bottom of what happened to LaForge and Fon...we must get through to Li."

"The young Tranan?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "Yes. As you heard from Admiral Forrester...Li's DNA was found in the hallway at the scene of Premier Fon's murder."

"But you don't believe he murdered Fon?"

"No. I don't. But I do believe he can tell us who did," he said gravely. "And if he knows what happened to Fon, then chances are just as good that he knows what happened to Geordi."

Deanna folded her hands, copying his posture. "I must admit, Captain. I have had some difficulty using my powers of empathy to discern the thoughts of the Tranans."

Picard frowned. "I didn't say I wanted you to read the young man's _mind_ , Counselor. But I do want you to counsel him. And to the extent that meeting with Rolani is also helpful, I would like you to do so."

"Understood sir. If it is alright with you, Captain, I would like to enlist Beverly's help with this."

Picard shrugged noncommittally. "Whatever you believe will assist you, Counselor."

She was watching him closely. "The first thing we need to do is give them new quarters, Captain."

"They don't have any quarters at all, Counselor..."

"But you said they are staying with you, Captain."

He looked uncomfortable. "Of course, that arrangement was only meant to be temporary, Counselor-by necessity."

She smiled. "Of course, sir. But my point is...the Tranans still view you as a deity. So having them out from under your shadow, is also necessary, if we are to expect them to speak without fear."

He appeared mildly hurt at that. "I certainly have no intention of making them fear me, Troi."

She blinked. "Of course, it's not intentional, sir. But nevertheless, they _are_ frightened of you."

Picard was about to say something in continued protest, when the door to his ready room swished open. His expression froze momentarily, as Beverly walked into the room, with Wesley and his Ciapathian girlfriend in tow.

"Is the door chime broken, Doctor? I happen to be in a meeting."

"This won't take long, Captain," said Beverly. "But we need to speak with you. It's important."

 _We?_ Picard looked over her shoulder and surveyed Wesley with a disapproving eye. What was the boy up to, now? So much for ordering Riker to run interference. "I see," he murmured.

Just then Riker stepped through the doors, stopped short, and looked like he wanted to retreat undetected back out of the door again. Picard held up his hand and silently beckoned his first officer into the room. "Well," said Picard, rolling his chair back so far that he nearly hit the wall. "Now that you've all invited yourselves into my office...what can I do for you?"

Riker pointed at Wesley. "Wesley, I explicitly told you I would handle this-"

"Handle _what_?" Picard and Beverly said at once.

Riker silently cursed his bad luck. "Mr. Crusher and Ms. Hatha provided me with some information, after you left, Captain. That's why I'm here. To report this information, but apparently Mr. Crusher took it upon himself to come up here personally-"

"My son is with me, Commander," Beverly said sharply. "Any problem you have with him should be discussed with me."

Riker leaned his tall frame against the wall and looked over at Beverly. "I don't have a problem with Wesley, but I do have a problem with the crew not following my orders-"

"Wesley isn't one of your officers-"

"But he is a member of this crew, and-"

"Enough," Picard shouted at them. Beverly visibly flinched, but didn't look away. "I didn't invite you into my office to bicker...in fact I didn't invite you in at _all_. So what are you doing here?" He glared from one officer to the other.

Beverly and Riker both turned to look at Wesley, who in turn looked to Hatha, who stared in wide eyed silence at Picard. He knew she had understood him, as she was wearing a translator.

"Ah," he said slowly. "I see. _One_ person had something important to tell me, and so _three_ more people decided to come along."

"Sir, I can explain what happened," Riker offered.

Picard was unmoved. "Commander, we've known each other less than one month, so I will let you know now...as a general practice I do not care to hear excuses. Understood?"

Riker stared straight ahead. "Yes, sir."

"Pardon me," interjected Troi smoothly, "but we've all been through a very stressful few days, and tempers tend to flare when-"

"Not now, Counselor," Picard snapped dismissively. Deanna felt Beverly staring at her, and smiled slightly. It was clear that the Captain was irritated by the influx of people into his office, but had stopped short of throwing everyone out, mainly because he did value what they had to say, even if he was not ready to admit it. Underneath his open irritation was a real fear that he would not recover the missing members of his crew, along with the looming possibility of war with the Ciapathians. She found that he was taking too much of the burden on himself, and that he did not yet trust Will Riker or his abilities as a first officer enough to share the heavy weight of command. And it was clear to her that Will was extremely hurt by this treatment from the Captain, and even more so was anxious to prove the Captain wrong. Beverly was also hurt, but for different reasons that Troi felt might take too long to analyze in that instance. Meanwhile, Wesley was so intimidated by the Captain that he was nearly frozen in place. But Hatha, she found was determined to express her concerns. As fearful as she was of her current predicament, she was deathly afraid of Dr. Petral, to the point of desperation. And that concerned her.

Picard gestured for Hatha to step forward and attempted to soften his tone somewhat, although he was unpracticed at doing so. "Hatha...please sit down and tell me why you've come to see me." He smiled as warmly as possible, but was somewhat taken aback when Hatha grabbed Wesley Crusher's hand in hers and dragged him forward to sit down next to her.

"It's about my mother," she said after a moment to collect her thoughts. She straightened. "I believe that Dr. Petral is poisoning her. And...I ask that you stop him."

Without intending to, the captain's voice grew gentle. "Hatha, why do you think Dr. Petral is harming your mother? Why would he have access to your mother?"

"He's been treating her for the sickness."

"What sickness?"

"It is the disease that will destroy our race. The Ascension is the only cure, and Petral is always working toward the Ascension. Everyone must contribute as they are meant to. Sacrifices must be made." She looked down at Wesley's hand in hers.

"I'm afraid I don't understand," said Picard. "What kind of sacrifices?"

The girl glanced at Wesley. "They say it's an honor to be the wife of Dr. Petral. He marries often...but his wives all disappear. It is said...it is said they are sacrificed for the Ascension. My mother was one who Petral always pursued, but she married my father instead. Then one day, she became ill with the sickness, and Petral began treating her. But now, I think that he's poisoning her. My father tried to stop him from marrying me, and now my father is dead," she said flatly. Gradually she raised her eyes to the captain. "And once my mother is out of the way, Petral will have no barriers to marrying me."

Beverly walked forward and put a hand on Hatha's shoulder. "We won't let that happen, Hatha."

Picard glanced up at her sharply, but said nothing for a few more moments. "I will speak to Del about your mother, Hatha, and try and convince him to intervene. As long as he is on board, I may have some influence over him."

"Thank you, Captain. I wish I could go to my mother, but I fear...I fear I will be trapped by Petral."

"Hatha, I am sorry, but...I don't know that I can prevent your marriage to Dr. Petral."

"Jean-Luc," Beverly began stridently. She broke off, when again he looked up at her, and his expression did not invoke the familiarity they had recently begun to experience when alone.

"I know," said Hatha, taking Wesley's arm in hers. "And that is why I must do what I must do...that is why Wesley Crusher and I will be married."

" _What_?" Wesley and Beverly said at the same time. Picard and Riker exchanged looks as Wesley tried to yank his arm away from Hatha, but she held fast.

"We've already shared the bonding time together," said Hatha seriously.

"Wesley!"

The boy looked up at his mother, quickly shaking his head. "It's not what it sounds like, Mom. I-I don't know what she's talking about."

Picard got up from his desk, now thoroughly considering ejecting everyone from his ready room. But it was easier just to eject himself. "Young lady, I will do what I can to help your mother," he assured Hatha. "But I have other business to attend to now."

Beverly glared at him outraged. "You heard what she said! You can't just stop the conversation there, Captain."

"Oh...I can, and I will," he said simply, stepping around her and walking out the door.

* * *

Almost as soon as he set foot on the bridge, his communicator beeped. "Picard here," he said, slapping at his chest.

 _"Captain, this is Lieutenant Yar. You'd better come down to sick bay, sir."_ Even over the link the young woman sounded stunned.

"Why? What's happened?"

 _"Lieutenant LaForge is back."_


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Geordi LaForge stood in the middle of main sickbay. He was wearing his standard uniform, and generally looked well. Nevertheless, given all of the recent turmoil, Yar kept her hand on the phaser at her hip. The nurse standing next to her reported he hadn't heard or seen him walk in.

Presently, Geordi scratched his head and glanced at the nurse. "Can I have some help please?"

The nurse started to walk forward but Yar grabbed his arm quickly, stopping him. "Where have you been, Geordi?" She asked cautiously. "We've been looking all over for you. We thought you were hurt..."

He looked somewhat confused but nodded. "I am hurt," he said, lifting his shirt to reveal a partially healed cut on his side.

Yar held out her open hand, still cautious. "We're going to get you some help...but I need you to answer my question. Where were you?"

He paused only briefly. "I was in a utility tunnel," he said.

Yar shook her head. She'd checked every utility hatch and tunnel on the ship, and no Geordi. "Which one? I looked for you, Geordi..."

"I-I can't remember."

Just then, Captain Picard, Riker, Crusher and Troi raced into sickbay, along with Wesley and Hatha. Geordi turned his Visor in their direction and smiled. "Hi."

"Geordi!" exclaimed Riker. "Where the hell have you been?"

Dr. Crusher immediately had her tricorder out and was scanning him slowly. "He's injured...but not entirely consistent with what we thought happened to him."

"Can I get some help, please?" LaForge repeated, his smile fading. "I don't feel well."

Beverly gestured to the nurse. "Let's get him onto a biobed. Use a protective field...he has a residue of some kind of chemical on his skin." _It's the same poison that killed Fon_ , she silently concluded with horror.

She hurried over and began examining Geordi methodically. "He's been stabbed in the side, but it doesn't match the amount of his blood we found in the corridor two days ago."

Riker looked at Picard, who nodded his assent. Time was precious, and they would need to act quickly to gather the details of LaForge's strange disappearance.

"Geordi what happened to you?" Riker was asking as the medical staff continued their ministrations.

"I tried to save the guy..."

"What guy?"

"Premier Fon...the Ciapathian leader."

"Tried to save him, what do you mean?"

"I saw him in the corridor."

"What corridor?" Yar asked, sidling up to the examination area. Geordi looked away, again, seemingly confused. "What corridor, Geordi?" Yar repeated, leaning in.

"Give my patient some space please," Beverly said tightly, and Riker and Yar stepped back slightly.

"Deck three," said LaForge. "Don't remember exactly where."

Beverly finished analyzing the chemicals which were invisible but covering LaForge's hands. Reaching behind her she handed Picard the instrument. He took it and walked away a few steps, silently reading the screen.

"If you're wondering, Captain...it's a match," said Crusher.

Picard froze, his grip tightening on the tricorder. It was poison. Three days ago, Geordi's blood had been found near Fon's body, and now Geordi had reappeared injured and covered in the residue of the same poison that killed Fon. He would have to update Command about Geordi's return. But how soon? "Damn it," he said louder than intended.

"Geordi...it's crucial that you tell us where you've been," said Will.

"I was...um, I was in a utility tunnel."

Yar shook her head and looked at Riker.

"You changed your uniform then," Riker said. "When did you go to your quarters?"

"A little while ago, I guess. I don't feel well," he mumbled again.

Frustrated with LaForge's vague answers, Riker glanced at Picard, who was staring down at the deck with his hands behind his back, listening, yet deep in thought.

"What were you doing in the utility tunnel?" asked Troi suddenly. "Were you frightened, Geordi?"

"Yes," he said. "And I felt...disoriented after what happened. So I crawled inside. I still don't feel right."

"What happened, Geordi?" asked Troi. "We need to know."

He seemed to struggle to remember. "I was on deck three...I heard a commotion, and then I saw them struggling."

"Who?"

"Fon and the kid."

Riker looked at Yar in alarm. "Kid? What kid?"

"One of the people we beamed up from Trana IV. A young guy...he had a knife. Must have stabbed me when I tried to intervene. He was trying to kill Fon."

Riker straightened and turned to face the captain. Picard scratched his jaw and glanced up at Riker wordlessly. Then he pointed at Geordi. "Stay with him, and don't let him out of your sight. I want security here at all times. Counselor, I want you to begin immediately to interview Li, per our discussion."

"Yes, Captain."

"Where are you going sir?" Riker called out, as Picard strode out of sick bay.

"To stall for time," he replied, never slowing down.

* * *

"So LaForge is back, and has confirmed that he witnessed Fon's murder."

"That's correct, Admiral."

"And is he clear on the murderer?"

Picard hesitated. "We're still questioning him, Admiral."

Forrester leaned forward, glaring at the screen. "Picard...if I find you are withholding information from me, there will be repercussions."

"Understood, Admiral."

"And so you've nothing further to report at this time?"

"No, sir."

"I see. Well, Captain, if you recall I gave you some time to get to the bottom of this. You have your helmsman back, but the leader of a powerful and influential species is still dead. In thirty-six hours, you are handing over that young alien you beamed up from Trana IV, whether you've cleared him of the murder or not. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good. Am I clear?"

"Very, sir."

* * *

The water in the tank whooshed out, and down a drain beneath his feet. Without his Visor he could see nothing, but he didn't need vision to fully appreciate his dire situation. Naked and shivering, Geordi LaForge reached out his arms to the side, bracing himself inside the large glass tube.

"The cloning process was successful Lieutenant LaForge. It gives me hope...hope that my race will survive and remain powerful, even at the expense of your own. Can you comprehend that?"

Geordi's teeth chattered. "What-what do you want with me?"

"Why your DNA of course," said Dr. Petral slowly. "Which I now have sufficient samples of. So the question is, what use are you now to me?"

LaForge ran his hands over his skin, and felt the tiny puncture wounds that now riddled his body.

"I will answer that question for you, human. I hold on to my laboratory subjects until all usefulness has been extinguished, sometimes along with their lives. Your clone has been placed back on board the Enterprise. No doubt he will cause confusion and dismay when he accuses a young innocent of murder. But you see, that innocent boy from Trana is my property, and always has been, just as you are now. Your Captain severely overstepped his authority when he removed them from my care. They are necessary for the forward evolution of the Ciapathian species, which is why I will never release them...or you for that matter."

"My crew will figure this out," Geordi warned. "They'll come for me."

The smile in Petral's voice was clear. "But not yet...you see they believe you have returned to them. It is only when your clone...expires, that Doctor Crusher will realize that you are still alive, and by then, the trap will be set."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

Counselor Troi carefully slid a cup of hot chocolate across Beverly's desk. Rolani reached out tentatively to wrap her fingers around the beverage, watching the steam with both trepidation and curiosity. "It is boiling."

"Go ahead and try it," Deanna said. "It shouldn't be too hot for you."

Rolani cautiously sipped the drink and after a few seconds broke into a beaming smile. "I have never tasted anything so wonderful."

Beverly stood in the doorway of her office, arms crossed, leaning against the wall for support. She wondered if anything could make her feel better in that moment. Too many disturbing events had happened recently. Geordi had gone missing, and then returned after a violent altercation, leaving more questions than answers about Ciapathian Premier Fon's death. The Federation and the Ciapathian Empire appeared on the verge of war, and now her fifteen year old son was talking about getting married. More than anything she was tired, but she knew she could keep going for many hours more if necessary. So here she stood, ready to question Rolani, leader of the Tranan people until the early morning hours. "Rolani we need to speak with you about some...some recent events that have been happening. We need your help."

Rolani noisily slurped the chocolate, before wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "Does God will it?"

Beverly glanced at Troi, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She was done fighting with Rolani over her perception that Picard was a deity. "Yes...Captain Picard ordered us to question you."

The young woman nodded earnestly. "Please...I want to help."

"When you were down on the surface of Trana IV, there was a man you disagreed with. You fought with him."

"Oni."

Troi smiled gently. "Yes. That's him. Where is Oni?"

"The punishment did not work... he was deceitful, and disappeared."

"Yes, I remember that you punished him...why?"

Rolani's innocent face grew hard. "Oni questioned God. He did not want to leave Trana, like we did."

Beverly couldn't keep the judgement from her tone. "So you punished him because he disagreed with you."

"Yes."

"How? How did you punish him, Rolani?"

She thrust her hands over her eyes. "I swore to God in the caves that I would not do it anymore! I must not even speak of it."

Beverly moved to sit down next to Troi. Captain Picard hadn't told his officers the whole story, it appeared. "What happened in the caves?"

Rolani slowly dropped her hands into her lap. Her dark eyes were wide and anxious. "God discovered what I did to Li and he was furious with me! He took the bindings off of Li and told me he would send us all back to Trana if I did not agree to stop the punishments."

"The bindings?"

Rolani froze. "If I tell you, God may strike me down."

Beverly rubbed her eyes tiredly. "He'll do no such thing," she said.

"But you cannot speak for him-"

"Captain Picard ordered us to speak with you, Rolani...I am sure he would permit you to discuss this subject with us," Troi said evenly.

She hesitated, watching the women guardedly. But it seemed she wanted to say some things out loud, which she had never been allowed to utter before. "When the Brethren come we must stay very still to make the sacrifice. Many years ago before I came to be, the ones who came before were given a set of bindings. We learn use them to keep order when necessary."

Troi looked at Beverly. "Doctor, might I have a word with you outside for a moment?"

* * *

Beverly was the first to speak, once they had stepped away from Rolani. "Why didn't the captain tell us about what he saw in the holodeck caves?"

"Possibly because he was aware that he violated the Prime Directive...more than once. He already admitted that he had taken blood from Li."

"But the Tranans are human beings. So there _is_ no violation."

"But he didn't know it at the time," countered Troi. "And Admiral Forrester did not seem convinced that Rolani and the others are human."

"Forrester is a bureaucrat who is clearly hiding something. He isn't interested in hearing the truth," Beverly said, recalling the man's condescension and attempts to humiliate the captain, which led her to recall their conversation in the lab that late night. The night they had both felt a connection, interrupted by horrible events...the night that Geordi disappeared and Fon was murdered. Her theory had been correct, Tranan DNA was essentially Human DNA, and yet, how could humans have traveled to this area of space, without the event being recorded? Suddenly her mind shifted to Hatha announcing her marriage proposal to Wesley right in the middle of the ready room. The whole situation was insane.

Deanna pursed her lips. "You're worried about Captain Picard. And you're concerned that Wesley is going to run off and marry the Ciapathian girl-"

"Troi I can't think about Wesley and that girl right now! This whole marriage thing is driving me crazy."

"Sorry-sometimes I can't help but be a counselor."

Beverly managed to look both annoyed and amused. "If we're going to be friends..."

"I'm going to have to stop reading your mind? Beverly...I cannot read people's minds anymore than you can cure a patient with a wave of your hand. But...I can sense what they are feeling, and often I can learn a person's intent. Other times, emotions are right on the surface, and empathic abilities are unnecessary."

"Like with me?"

Troi smiled. "So despite Captain Picard's suspicion that I am constantly reading his mind-"

"Ha! Of _course_ he thinks that. He is the most closed off person I have ever known."

"Oh?"

"Yes. I can imagine he is terrified for someone to get inside that head of his."

"Have you ever wanted to get inside his head?"

Beverly brought her hand up, as if defending against a blow. "That's not what I meant."

Deanna nodded apologetically. "I apologize, Beverly. Perhaps I overstepped."

Beverly looked down at the floor a moment more before regaining her professional calm. "So...why did you want to talk out here?"

Deanna clasped her hands in front of her and rocked back on her heels. "Oh. Yes...well I think we're wasting our time with Rolani."

"You don't think she knows whether Li was somehow involved in Fon's death?"

"I think we'll have more success simply talking with Li himself. Rolani's focus is on what she knows; the horrific conditions imposed by the Brethren. But she doesn't know anything about Fon's murder." Just then her communicator buzzed. _"Picard to Troi."_

Crusher could see Troi tense immediately. _I see he has that effect on everyone._

"Troi here."

The voice on the other end was clipped and irritated. " _Have you gotten anything useful from the Tranan boy yet?"_

Deanna glanced at Beverly. "No sir, we haven't interviewed Li yet. We thought we would start with Rolani."

There was a long pause, but the response was unforgiving. " _I want your report on my desk in one hour, Counselor._ "

"But sir, it could take some time to-"

 _"Hop to it, Counselor. Picard out."_

Beverly watched Deanna Troi's complexion turn pale, but couldn't help but be slightly amused. "Did he just tell you to 'hop to it'?"

Deanna merely gave her new friend a look before walking back into the office.

* * *

Will Riker marched toward Picard's ready room with renewed energy and sense of purpose. He'd done things the captain's way, done some research, and in the process discovered something, that might allow him to uncover evidence that would prove that Reth was involved in Fon's murder. The Ciapathian Chief of Arms was still wandering the Enterprise, presumably spying for Doctor Petral, but serving no good purpose, that was for sure. Reth had initially accused Fon's teenage daughter Hatha of the murder, but hadn't done a thing that Riker was aware of to carry out the investigation he had threatened to undertake. He tucked the data pad under his arm before hitting the chime.

"Come."

Riker stepped inside the captain's office, and was surprised to find that he was not alone. Geordi LaForge sat on the couch, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, apparently deep in thought. Picard was just getting up from behind his desk, and he walked over to put a surprisingly sympathetic hand on LaForge's shoulder. "Go and get some rest, Lieutenant. You're dismissed."

"Okay...thank you sir." Geordi got up from the couch looking disoriented, and headed for the door.

Picard watched him go before turning to Riker. "He believes whatever he's telling us."

"But you don't believe his story..."

Picard looked up at Riker sharply. "No. Do you?"

"No, sir. But I agree that Geordi seems convinced about what happened."

Picard crossed his arms. "Admiral Forrester demanded a meeting with LaForge...we ended a few minutes before you arrived."

"Oh." Riker felt a note of surprise that Picard was sharing this with him. "So he questioned LaForge himself..."

Picard nodded and briskly smoothed the material at his waist. What Riker had previously seen as an oddly amusing gesture, he now recognized was a signature sign that Picard was thinking deeply. "And I think he shares our concerns that Mr. LaForge's story does not quite add up, and is missing many important details...and yet he was willing to accept Geordi's version of events."

"Because it supports that Li tried to kill Fon? He's looking for someone to pin this on."

Picard rubbed his chin, and looked past Riker. "That's correct. And I'm afraid that Geordi's lack of detail could land him as a suspect as well. So far he's the only known witness to Fon's murder."

"You still have time sir-we still have time. Even if Li wrestled with Premier Fon on deck 3, and tried to stab him with a knife as Geordi describes, he sure as hell didn't poison Fon. Someone else must have done that."

Picard shrugged. "I am still awaiting Counselor Troi's report. I'm inclined to interrogate the boy myself, but I am trying to allow her to do her job."

Riker felt himself flush slightly at the jab at Troi. "Captain, Deanna's very capable...she won't let you down, sir."

Picard frowned, and then gave Riker a complex look. "We shall see." He walked over to the replicator to order himself some tea. "Now," he said, gingerly sipping the tea. "Why are you here, Commander? And thank you for coming alone this time."

 _He's still angry about that?_ "Sorry about the intrusion earlier, Captain. I didn't expect Wesley and his girlfriend to just show up-"

"I've already had several run ins with that boy, and we've only been on board several weeks, Riker," Picard said quickly. "The truth is, the less time I spend around children, the better."

"With all due respect sir...the Enterprise has many families with children aboard. They're part of our crew."

Picard looked displeased, putting his tea down on the table with a clatter. "You still haven't answered my question." He nodded at the data pad still tucked under Riker's arm.

Riker pulled the pad out and pulled up the document he had wanted to show Picard. Picard took the data pad and began to study it, scrolling through the document, reading aloud at times. "Alarmis Beetle...a rare, large armored beetle native to the beta quadrant, capable of growing up to two meters in length...highly intelligent and adept hunters...yet prone to domestication in small numbers." Picard looked up at Riker. "This article is fifty pages long. How about a summary, Commander?"

"The Alarmis Beetle is known to secrete a toxin if it believes its life is in danger. The ironic part of that defense is that secretion of the toxin is not only deadly for the attacker, but for the beetle itself."

"Has this toxin ever been analyzed?"

"Not that I could find," Riker said. "But I would bet that if we searched Reth's quarters again, we might find a trace of something."

"And you think a toxin from Reth's beetle killed Fon?"

"We saw it dead in his quarters, captain. The body's gone, but there could still be a trace of the toxin."

"Fine. If you obtain a sample, transmit it immediately to Doctor Crusher for analysis."

Riker moved swiftly to exit, when Picard cleared his throat. Riker stopped in mid-step. "Sir?"

"Be careful Commander. And bring Worf with you."

"Worf is a bridge officer, sir."

"Worf is a _Klingon_. Bring him along and use extreme caution."

* * *

Tasha Yar crouched down, slowly waving the instrument back and forth below a window. It seemed she was forever examining one thing or another. with a tricorder Normally she would have found such a repetitive task tedious, but she was trying to solve a mystery. A few days ago, Doctor Selar and several other crew members had gone missing shortly after the disappearance of Geordi LaForge. Now LaForge had returned, leaving additional questions about where he'd been and what he had actually witnessed the night of Premier Fon's death. But the others were still missing, and after hours of questioning LaForge, there were still no answers to the important questions. Now she found herself searching Doctor Selar's quarters for any trace of the physician. And she was looking for traces of andurine, a sought after mineral with stealth properties. Captain Picard suspected that someone had kidnapped the officers including LaForge using advanced transporter technology. With un-explainable traces of andurine found around the ship, along with strange power surges, that theory had seemed the best one; that is, until LaForge had returned with a story about having hid inside a utility tunnel following Fon's murder. Still she and her security teams had been monitoring the living quarters of each of the remaining missing crew members,

Suddenly her tricorder screen showed a message: **power surge**. Scrambling to her feet, she glanced around wildly, only to find herself face to face with Dr. Selar. The impassive Vulcan was dressed normally in her blue and black medical uniform, and raised a single eyebrow at Yar, who had immediately started scanning the doctor. "A trace of something," she murmured. "Can't confirm that it's andurine though..."

"What are you doing in my quarters?" Doctor Selar demanded.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," said Yar. "You've been missing for two days...where have you been?"

Selar looked convincingly puzzled, and gestured over her shoulder. "I have been in the bathroom."

"For two days? I don't think so...we searched your quarters and found nothing." She waved the tricorder over the doctor and then concluded, "You seem completely fine. Do you remember anything that happened to you?"

"Your presence here is illogical, as are your questions."

Yar nodded. " _Everything_ is illogical right now," she agreed, walking past the woman, still staring at her tricorder. She picked up the pace, hurrying into the bathroom. The tricorder confirmed a fading power surge had occurred here just minutes ago, but from what? "Yar to Commander Data."

 _"Data here."_

"Sir, I'm here in Doctor Selar's quarters. She's reappeared and doesn't seem aware that she has been missing for two days."

 _"Is she unharmed?"_

"Appears so, sir."

" _Lieutenant...Doctor Francis, researcher Lau Wu, teacher Marta Sedgewick, and Terrence Davis, a engineering technician have all reappeared as well within the last half hour. They are currently in sickbay."_

"Why wasn't I informed?" Yar snapped irritably. "Sorry sir," she corrected. "I'm a little overtired."

" _Noted, Lieutenant. In related matters, I have identified the location of the power surges that have accompanied the reappearance of each of the missing crew members."_

Yar felt her heart begin to race. "What is it sir?"

 _"The exact source remains elusive, however it's origin is from inside Reth's quarters."_

"I'm on my way," said Yar hurrying from the bathroom and sprinting past Doctor Selar. She halted in the doorway as an afterthought. "Oh...and you should report to sickbay right away."

"Indeed."

* * *

 _"All of the captured crew have now been returned. I have finished my examinations._ " The shadowy figure remained very still on the view screen, and yet Reth could tell that Doctor Petral was smiling.

"They'll know you tampered with them eventually."

" _But not for sometime. Their brains have been washed, for lack of a better word, of any memory of their experience here."_

"The transport hub malfunctioned," complained Reth. "I had to shut it down, but they are likely to have detected it. They will be coming for me now."

" _You know what to do._ "

"You can transport me back to your ship, Petral. It doesn't have to be this way."

" _And have them trace the andurine transporter back to me? I think not."_

"You are disgusting!"

 _"So many sacrifices must be made for the good of our people. First Fon, then your beloved bug...and now you."_

Despite his large frame, Reth began to tremble with fear. "When I reach the golden afterlife, I know I will not see you there, Petral. You are evil."

 _"And you have served me, so what does that make you? If you were to return to Ciapathia, you would eventually be executed for the murder of our former dear leader, if the truth were discovered."_

"The truth! You arranged it all!"

 _"You know what to do, Reth. Leave no trace."_


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Counselor Troi sat down carefully next to Li, who was now seated behind Beverly's desk. He was gaunt and pale, and wearing the Federation clothes Beverly had given him that were much too large, hanging off of his lanky frame. A communicator badge had been hastily attached to his tunic for translation purposes. She smiled at him warmly, and he simply stared wide-eyed back at her. She wanted to avoid antagonizing the young man, and she realized from experience that even seating herself across from him might upset him. It was clear he was fragile and that this condition was unlikely to improve once she began to ask him questions.

She glanced over at Beverly who remained standing in the doorway of her office, observant, but out of the way. It was clear that the doctor was much too tense and preoccupied to be of much help with questioning the Tranans at the moment, and Crusher seemed very self-aware of this. She was worried for her son, and as the minutes ticked by, this became more and more obvious. Still Beverly's quiet presence gave Troi a confidence she hadn't experienced since coming on board. It reminded her that at her last postings on Betazed and at Starfleet Command, she had engaged with many people from hundreds of different cultures in diplomatic and other settings. Her experience was still there, despite the blow to her confidence after quickly learning that she was largely unfamiliar with star ships, and more significantly, the ways of star ship captains. Beverly caught her gaze and smiled slightly.

Deanna turned to the young Tranan. "Li...I would like to speak with you. Will that be alright?"

Li glanced furtively up at Rolani, who stood beside Crusher, anxious, as was typical of the Tranan leader.

Li returned his gaze to stare silently down at the desk.

"You heard the Counselor! Answer her," Rolani abruptly shouted. Li jumped in his seat, then began to pat his hands nervously on his thighs, still looking down at the desk.

Beverly sighed. "Rolani...would you mind if we speak to Li alone? I think he's afraid to displease you."

"He knows he was wrong to disobey. He is afraid to suffer the binding again."

"Which means it would probably be more _helpful_ to him if you're not standing here glaring at him."

Rolani frowned. "I told God I will no longer do the binding. I swore to him. He will strike me down if I disobey."

Beverly was beginning to feel beyond frustrated, when the intercom beeped. _"Doctor Crusher, this is Nurse Ogawa...the missing people were just brought in to sickbay, and Doctor Selar just reported for her shift."_

" _What_?" Beverly put her hand on Rolani's arm. "Come with me, Rolani. I've got work to do, and Li is in good hands here, with Counselor Troi. You can stay with me. Alright?"

Rolani gave Li a warning look, but then shrugged. "Yes, Doctor."

Beverly gave Deanna a half smile. "Good luck."

"You too."

* * *

Worf did not hesitate to slip away from the helm when Commander Riker strolled onto the bridge and said, "Worf, you're with me." Worf was generally bored unless engaged in battle, and so far, the Enterprise crew hadn't been tested in any battle worth noting. This meant that Worf was on the verge of napping during most of his bridge shifts, so it was good that he was a very proficient officer. Worf was used to being the only Klingon in the room, which didn't bother him, but the fact was...he was Klingon, not human. So far he had watched mostly. Eager to learn from Captain Picard as a mentor. Picard's no-nonsense style and tactical genius were well-known, as was his emotional distance from his officers. Worf soundly appreciated this kind of discipline from a human. Yar was a reliable tactical officer; extremely intense for a human, which was perhaps why the other humans did not appreciate her. Data was a mechanized being with little appreciation for his own unique form, instead constantly chattering about what it must be like to be human. The rest of the crew was too emotional, or at least he assumed they were. He didn't expect to learn otherwise, because he knew he could not be forced to socialize. Humans loved to socialize, but Worf had a way of discouraging them from doing so with him.

Worf jogged after Riker, who had already stepped into the lift. Riker eyed him, and lifted his chin slightly. Worf mirrored Riker's stance, and as per usual, they each considered who was really taller than the other. "Deck four," said Riker. Worf noticed that Riker was holding two type one phasers in his hand, but figured Riker would only discuss the weapons if he felt it necessary. Riker was the first to speak. "You hate working the helm, don't you Worf?"

"Klingons do not hate...Commander."

Riker squinted his eyes in a strange manner and then broke into a slow smile. "So maybe you just have a healthy dislike for the helm? I'll be the first to admit, it's kind of one-note."

Worf glared at his commanding officer. "I prefer tactical, sir."

 _What a shock._ Riker wiggled his eyebrows as though surprised. "Oh? Well...why aren't you on a security career track, then?"

"The Enterprise is my first ship assignment. When I graduated from the Academy, Captain Picard advised me to apply for a bridge officer position. He told me that he already had a Chief of Security, and that if I wanted to learn how to be a good commanding officer I should start on the bridge."

"Oh." Now Riker was surprised. Not only was this the longest string of words he had heard Worf utter since meeting the Klingon, it seemed that Picard had known Worf before their tenure on board the Enterprise, and to hear Worf tell it, Picard was actually capable of having a soft spot for someone. Riker felt an irritating twinge of jealousy, which he flicked away in his mind. He slapped one of the phasers he was holding into Worf's large palm. "We're going after Reth." He saw a glint in Worf's eye that looked slightly dangerous, so he walked it back a bit. "We're going to search Reth's quarters for traces of a toxin that may have killed Fon."

Worf set the phaser quickly, and then folded his fingers back around it almost casually.

"I hope you just set that for stun," Riker murmured as the turbo lift stopped.

* * *

 _"Out of one comes one million_

 _The Chosen sacrifice to propel our race_

 _to Perfection in our time_

 _Ciapathia's Brethren will achieve Ascension"_

Reth whispered the recitation over and over, as perspiration ran down his face. He sat on the floor of his Enterprise quarters, his hunting staff lay before him on the floor just out of reach. In his left hand he held a small cylindrical device. His thumb hovered over the top of the cylinder, shaking now uncontrollably. He closed his eyes in search of peace.

* * *

 **Minutes earlier...**

When Yar arrived outside Reth's quarters, Data was already there, standing quietly. He looked up from his tricorder as she approached. "Ah, Lieutenant."

Yar shrugged internally, realizing it was the first time since the incident with the viral outbreak that she had been alone with Data. Another officer might have been embarrassed, but Yar was practical, and had gotten over it already. She and Data had had sex when she had been under the influence of the Tsiolkovsky virus. In truth, Yar would have had sex with anyone who had happened to walk into her quarters that evening. She'd lucked out that it was Data, because at the very least he was discreet, and hadn't said a word to anyone.

'What have you found, sir?"

"Tricorder readings indicate elevated neutrino levels and traces of a highly refined form of the mineral andurine inside of the guest quarters assigned to Chief of Arms Reth."

"A cloaking barrier of some kind?"

"Yes...and it is failing. More importantly, subspace frequencies indicate the object it is meant to hide is a portable transporter. The presence of such an object, the documented power surges and recent return of our crew members strongly point to foul play on the part of the Ciapathians."

"Which means he took our people." Yar pulled her phaser quickly and set it to heavy stun. "Let's get him."

Data tilted his head. "Lieutenant, caution is required in this situation. Reth will likely be armed."

"So are we." Yar held up the phaser for emphasis.

Just then, Riker and Worf came running down the corridor, phasers in hand. "Wait," Riker yelled. "What's going on?" he demanded.

Data explained the disturbing information he had put together. "Sir. While the tricorder confirms Reth's presence, he has remained still for the last few minutes. I recommend further precautions before entry."

"Such as?"

"Scanning for a triggered explosive device."

"You mean a booby trap?" Riker stared at Data's completely blank expression before stating to the others, "Data's right. Reth is a self-described hunter. He'd like nothing better than to catch us off guard. Go ahead, Data."

Data moved to the door, while the others stood back a bit. "As soon as Data's done, follow my lead," said Riker.

In the next moment he felt, rather than heard the blast, as the door to Reth's quarters blew outward hitting Data squarely, and all four officers were thrown backwards through the air. Riker smelled smoke, and then fell into darkness.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

"Something very sad has happened on board this vessel, Li."

The young man rubbed his eyes, and continued to stare down at the desk. Next to him was a data pad, recording all visual and audio from their interaction.

"I need your help to discover how and why it happened." Troi sat with her elbows on the table, hands clasped in front of her. "Do you want to help me?"

He shrugged one shoulder then twitched. She wondered how old he was...18-20 years old perhaps. And yet he was merely a child. A child who had been tortured from birth. His emotions were so raw, she had to pause after each question she asked him because of the blast to her own psyche. And so far, he'd been quiet for many minutes. She looked at the clock. She had only 30 minutes to transmit her report to Captain Picard, and knew she was in trouble. The deadline he'd given her had been anything but arbitrary. Picard had been ordered to hand Li over to the Ciapathians if he could not be cleared of Fon's murder within a specific amount of time. Troi knew that time was running out.

"Rolani told us that you left the holodeck one evening several days ago, Li. Is that true?"

The use of Rolani's name seemed to revive him a little. Still staring at the table he said, "Yes."

"Why did you leave?"

He shook his head from side to side violently, then bowed his shoulders down to the desk.

She leaned in. "I think you had a good reason to leave, Li. What was it?"

"He wanted to be Chosen," Li whispered.

"Who?"

"He wanted to be Chosen, but God did not wish it. So I tried to stop him."

"Who?"

"The one who disobeyed. I followed him."

"Oni? Oni left the holodeck and you followed him?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean when you say he wanted to be chosen? What does that mean?"

"He went looking for Brethren. He wanted to be Chosen."

"You mean he wanted to die, don't you?"

"Yes. He wanted to be sacrificed like all the others. But God does not desire for us to make the sacrifice any longer."

Troi reached out and took his hand, and surprisingly he did not retreat, but squeezed her hand tightly. "It's alright to tell me what happened next."

"I followed him. He had a knife with him. To make the sacrifice. He crawled through a tunnel, and I chased him." He gestured with his arms moving upwards. "He climbed up...a-"

"A ladder? He climbed a ladder and you followed."

Li nodded. "I yelled to him to stop, but he never stopped. We came to another place...like this room but longer, and we ran. Then I heard footsteps in front of us, coming toward us. And I heard it...the scratching." He slammed his palms over his ears and shut his eyes, gritting his teeth.

"What did you hear? What did you see?" Troi whispered.

He shook his head violently again.

She slid over a blank data pad with a stylus. "Can you draw what you saw?"

He gripped the stylus for several painful minutes, before beginning to sketch. To her horror, his accuracy was amazing as he drew a large black creature with powerful pincher-like jaws.

Abruptly he threw down the stylus. "It makes the scratching sound as it runs...and it hisses. It is the hunter."

Reth's insect.

"Was the-the hunter alone?"

He suddenly faced her. "I had never seen the face of the Brethren until that moment. They always come in the dark and they cover their faces. But I smelled him. He was a Brethren. He looked at us and laughed. He told us it was time to die. I grabbed Oni, but he fought with me-cut me with his blade. Then a man came-he is one of you." He swiped a hand over his eyes. "Golden," he said almost reverently.

Troi put a hand reflexively over her heart. _Geordi._ "Please go on."

"He yelled for the fighting to stop, so I stopped. Golden tried to grab Oni, but the Brethren got to him first. The Brethren are so strong. The Brethren took Oni, lifted him up and stabbed him...right here," he patted his chest. "Oni made the sacrifice, just as he had planned."

"Goddess. Then what?"

"Then..." he clapped loudly, making Troi jerk slightly in her seat. "Oni's body disappeared. Golden fought with the Brethren, but the Brethren was too strong and Golden was sacrificed too."

Troi felt tears begin to roll down her cheeks. "What-what do you mean?"

"The Brethren took Oni's blade and stabbed Golden...here," he said, rubbing his hand over his midsection."Blood was everywhere. Then Golden's body disappeared."

Troi bowed her head. Geordi had returned to them, and yet according to Li, the young officer had been killed, apparently by Reth. Perhaps Geordi had only been severely wounded? But nothing else about his reappearance made any sense, because where had he gone in the first place?

"After Golden disappeared, what happened?" Troi prompted. She took a deep breath, expecting that somehow to be the end. But she sensed a freedom in Li now. He had escaped something so horrific that he felt compelled to tell her everything.

"Another Brethren arrived."

Troi's blood felt chilled. "Describe that person. What did they look like?"

"Like the other Brethren, very tall, with a red face, but he was older. But this one looked at me and...he did not recognize me...not as the other one did. They argued, but I did not understand their language as I had before. The older Brethren pointed at me and the blood on the floor and began to scream. The first Brethren walked away as though he was leaving, while the old Brethren continued to scream. Then...then he made a sign to the hunter...and the hunter rushed to the old Brethren. The old Brethren was frightened of the hunter and he ran, but the first Brethren threw a long spear and pierced the shell of the hunter. The hunter did not expect this betrayal. I saw a white foam, the old Brethren fell to the ground and then I began to run out of fear. I heard the Brethren laughing, but when I looked back he was gone."

Troi squeezed Li's hand. "Thank you. You have helped us all by telling us what happened to you. It's going to be alright."

"No." He shook his head. "The Brethren will come for us. Even you. Only God can save us now."

* * *

Forrester's expression was immovable. _"You disappoint me, Captain. So I am to believe a giant beetle killed the Ciapathian Premier? After your own officer told you otherwise? Given your reputation for efficiency and reason I expected a more convincing theory."_

"I reiterate, Admiral, we may not have evidence to prove who killed Fon, but we do have evidence that Li is a human clone."

" _I've seen the data."_

"And yet you refuse to acknowledge that this young man has rights under the Federation Charter that cannot be removed. In fact they exist for these very circumstances. You cannot remove his liberty-"

" _To avoid intergalactic war? Because that is what I am doing, Picard. If you really believe the Tranans are humans-"_

"This isn't based on my _beliefs_ , Admiral. I've given you scientific evidence."

" _Then fine. The issue of their humanity can be sorted out by the Federation Council once this is done."_

"Sir how can you even think of approving the Ciapathian's petition for Federation entry after all that has happened on board my ship?"

 _"Too late, Captain. The petition's been approved-with the condition that the Ciapathians still expect the transfer of this murder suspect into their custody."_

"Sir!"

 _"Captain Picard...you have two hours to hand over the Tranan suspect to the lead Ciapathian ship. Forrester out."_

When the connection cut, he slammed his fist down on the desk, then bowed his head, trying to think over his next steps. _"Troi to Picard."_

His head snapped up. "Yes."

 _"I just transmitted my report to you sir. Li identified Reth as the murderer."_

"Thank you, Counselor. There may still be time."

 _"Sir if you need my help..."_

"Indeed I do. I need you to take command of the bridge while I sort this mess out. Picard out."

* * *

Picard uploaded Troi's report to his data pad, and ran for the turbolift. He had limited time, and had to reach Del before it was too late. He skimmed Troi's report so quickly that he was certain he had missed a great deal. And none of it sunk in. When he reached deck 3, he heard shouting and raced down the corridor as fast as he could. He wasn't prepared for the source of the commotion however. Wesley Crusher was banging with his fists on Del's door. "Let her go! She doesn't want to go with you!"

He walked swiftly up behind the teen and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Crusher!"

Wesley turned around and there were tears in his eyes. He grabbed Picard by the arms tightly. "Captain they can't just take her! She doesn't want to go with him!"

Alarmed by his own emotional reaction to the boy's obvious pain, he returned the boy's grip tightly and shook him harder than he meant to. "Snap out of it, Mr. Crusher," he bellowed. The teen froze, and bit his bottom lip, still holding fast to Picard's biceps.

"I'm sorry sir. But they can't just take Hatha against her will."

Picard let go of Wesley and clenched his jaw tightly, before hitting the intercom button. "Representative Del..this is Captain Picard. I apologize for the intrusion, but I must speak with you immediately."

The door slid open to reveal Del, whose stout frame nearly took up the entire doorway. "It's _Premier_ Del now," said the politician haughtily.

"I see," said Picard. "Well...all the better that you are in charge now, Del...because it is time to make some difficult decisions."

Del sniffed, and nodded at Wesley. "He's been banging on the door like a crazy person. That boy is obsessed with this girl." Picard looked beyond and could see Hatha sitting on top of a giant suitcase looking frightened and angry.

Picard resisted looking at Wesley. "Maybe so, but I'm not here because of the boy. I'm here because you and I both know that the Tranan didn't kill Fon. Reth did."

"Come in," said Del, standing aside. He wagged his finger at Wesley. "If you come in here, you must behave young man."

Picard shot Wesley a withering glance. 'He won't be any trouble, will you Mr. Crusher." It was more of a statement than a question.

Wesley shook his head, but he was staring past them at Hatha. "No sir."

Del watched Picard expectantly now that they were all inside the room. It was apparent that Del's wife had already beamed back to their ship, and that Del intended to soon follow her. "Well Captain? Say your piece."

"My commanding officer hasn't seen this yet," Picard said, handing Del the data pad. "I want you to see the truth about what happened to Fon."

Del waved his hands in the air. "That no longer matters, Picard."

Picard grew still. "If it no longer matters, then why is your government threatening war, if we don't hand over the Tranan?"

"It's out of my hands. The decision has been made to execute the Tranan. It's what the people want, Picard. And in my profession there is nothing more important than placating the people."

Picard rubbed his forehead, trying to subdue his anger. Wesley was watching him closely, and he needed to be an example to the boy. Didn't he? "Reth murdered Fon. Don't you want to know why? Have you considered that you may be next?"

"Are you trying to threaten me, Picard?"

"I am _trying_ to help you see reason. But you don't care about the truth, do you?"

"I just admitted as much didn't I?"

"You know...I believe you, Del. I don't think you care about the truth. You only care about your own political currency...which is why I was quite surprised to learn that you had already made a deal with Admiral Forrester. You were never interested in joining the Federation, and yet here we are."

Del looked confused. "Fon was a fool to want entry into your Federation. I've no idea what you're talking about."

"According to Forrester, Ciapathia is the newest member of the Federation...of course only after we hand over this poor Tranan boy to you."

Del went over and sat down heavily on the bed next to Hatha. He looked suddenly defeated. "That slime...Petral."

"Why, Del? Why do you allow him to hold so much power?"

"I am a political realist. No progress can be made in our society without the consent of Doctor Petral."

"Have you considered that no progress can be made as long as he holds so much power?"

Del exploded in fury, jumping up again. "You know nothing of our society!"

Wesley rushed forward, catching everyone off guard. "He's willing to force Hatha to marry Petral just so he can hang on to power, sir. We have to stop him!"

Picard side-stepped quickly between Del and Wesley, putting a firm hand on the teen's chest.

"Stay back, Wesley. Now listen here, Del. I distinctly heard you tell this young woman that you would protect her."

Not for the first time, Del looked uncertain. "Things change. As I said, you know nothing."

"I know that like Fon you are about to be under the control of Doctor Petral. I know that he forces women to marry him against their will and that you are willing to just stand by and watch that happen to Hatha to achieve your own political ends!"

Hatha got up then and grabbed Wesley's hand in hers.

"Let go of him," Del warned her.

"No. I need to say goodbye to Wesley," she declared defiantly.

Wesley looked like he would collapse. "What do you mean? You're not going to go with him..."

"It's my choice, Wesley," she said, her lip trembling. "And if I don't go with Del, I know I will never see my mother alive again. I must go to her."

"I can't let you go," Wesley pleaded, grabbing her hand tighter. "Wha-what if we get married?"

Picard closed his eyes briefly. "Wesley..."

"You must let me go," Hatha said to Wesley.

Del swiped at Wesley, but Picard stepped in front of the young man.

Del lashed out with his fist, striking the captain squarely above his left eye. They were in such close proximity, that he didn't have time to step backward to evade the blow. Picard staggered to the side before countering with a right hook to the side of Del's head. He struck without thinking it through, but he didn't hold back either, and Del fell hard to the deck.

Del rolled groggily on the floor for a moment. Picard offered his hand, but Del pushed him away. "You have committed a grave error, Picard. How dare you strike me? If you want war with my people, you will have it!"

"Get the hell off of my ship," replied Picard. "Goodbye Hatha," he added. "We wish you and your mother well...sincerely. Come along Mr. Crusher." The captain put a firm hand on the back of Wesley's neck and guided him quickly out of Del's quarters.

* * *

When they were in the hallway, Wesley began to speak, but Picard held up his hand. "I want you to go and find your mother. We'll discuss Hatha's situation later."

Wesley looked as though he was in shock. "Sir...you're bleeding."

Picard blinked and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. "Doesn't matter. Go and find your mother."

" _Crusher to Picard."_

"Picard here. Doctor, your timing is perfect, I am here with Wesley. He's fine and is on his way to join you in sickbay."

" _What is he doing there with you?_ " Her voice sounded strange, not to mention exhausted.

Picad paused and actually found himself smiling at Wesley. "It's a long story."

 _"I'm sure it is. One which I'd love to hear when I get out of surgery. Captain...there was a horrible explosion on deck 4."_

"Deck 4? Reth's quarters?"

" _Yes. Reth is dead. He killed himself and injured four of our people in the process."_

He tried to swallow the dread welling in his throat. "Who?"

 _"Data, Yar, Riker and Worf are currently in my sickbay. Under the circumstances it would be best if you would come down here, Captain."_

He looked at Wesley. "I can't at the moment doctor. I'm needed on the bridge. Picard out."

* * *

 **Hi, I just want to thank all you readers and writers for continuing to follow my stories. I am not able to write as frequently as I used to, but I do what I can, and yes, I am still working on all the unfinished ones. Best, -PP**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

 **Sickbay**

"Surprisingly, most of the damage to your torso is superficial, Data. Your operating systems are intact and functioning well within acceptable parameters."

Data nodded as his friend stepped back and placed the scanner on a table. "Yes, Geordi. The incendiary device in Reth's quarters was designed to destroy only the immediate area and was well contained."

"Hmph. Tell that to Commander Riker. He's fighting for his life right now."

"Geordi... I will wait to tell Commander Riker, as he is more than likely unconscious at this time."

Laforge's forehead creased. " _Right._..anyway, according to the techs, in addition to blowing himself up, Reth blew a substantial hole in the inner hull, not to mention taking a big piece of the deck out. But why would he do that?"

"Perhaps Reth intended to eliminate evidence. Captain Picard believes Reth is responsible for Fon's death...as well as your abdominal injury."

LaForge lightly touched his stomach. "But I don't remember Reth being there that night."

"Do you recall being injured?"

LaForge shook his head. "Not really. I just remember seeing that kid attack Fon. I'm kind of assuming he stabbed me too."

"Geordi... Doctor Crusher concluded that Premier Fon was poisoned by a toxin. That is how he died."

Geordi scratched his temple. "Oh. Well I guess my memory isn't so good right now."

"I am concerned about your lack of memory, Geordi. Traumatic experiences may sometimes result in so-called buried memories."

LaForge just stared back at his friend. "So is that what you think I have? Buried memories?"

Data stepped down from the exam table. "I am not a counselor. But it may be of benefit to you to speak with Counselor Troi."

"I already have... listen Data, are you going up to the bridge with that big hole in your chest?"

Data looked down at the front of his uniform which was effectively missing from waist up. What remained was frayed and charred black. Several layers of his synthetic skin were missing and the center of his chest was damaged from the explosion. "Yes. As you concluded, I remain functional. And I am needed on the bridge."

Geordi nodded. "Okay. Hopefully Doctor Crusher will release me soon to full duty and I can join you."

"I will look forward to your return."

* * *

"As you ordered, Lieutenant Worf has been released back to bridge duty, Doctor," a hurrying nurse reported.

"Good." Beverly Crusher fastened the surgical smock at her side, and then walked quickly back through main sickbay toward the surgical area. She was relieved to know that Wesley was safe and not running away with his Ciapathian girlfriend, but now she had other matters to contend with. Three of the injured officers from the deck 4 explosion had been stabilized, but Riker badly needed surgery. Presently Doctors Selar and Stein were working to stabilize him, and she was now needed to finish prepping her patient.

She stopped outside the surgery to read the Riker's chart which was displayed on a wall monitor. As she studied it, she realized that she was thoroughly distracted and needed to get her mind correctly focused. A flash of anger briefly entered her mind, and she realized what was wrong. She was disappointed in the captain for not coming down to check on his wounded crewmen. Maybe if she had mentioned to him that it was Riker who had been gravely wounded... She put her hands on her hips, still staring at the medical chart. "And what could possibly be so important up on the bridge?" She murmured to herself. Suddenly there was a rumble under her feet and then another, as the deck reverberated. "Okay, I think I'm beginning to see," she answered herself out loud, grabbing hold of the wall.

"We're under attack," someone was shouting nearby.

She turned to point at the speaker.

"Tasha, get back in your bed!"

The security Chief had slid out of her recovery bed, and looked like she was desperately trying to find her boots, which of course were nowhere nearby. "I've got to get up to the bridge, Doctor," Yar said staggering around groggily.

"No...no you don't." Crusher shook her head and waved at a passing nurse. "Get her back in bed before she breaks another rib, please. Sedate her if necessary."

"Doctor, we already sedated her once less than an hour ago."

"She's a workaholic. Try it again."

"Doctor, you can't keep me down here, when the ship is being attacked!"

"Actually, that is literally one of my job duties, Lieutenant," she said as medical staff converged on Yar. The young woman had suffered several broken ribs and a concussion during the explosion, and yet seemed oblivious to how close she'd come to death. "Rest up!" Walking back to the surgical area, she slapped the door mechanism, just as the floor rumbled again.

When she walked in to surgery, the room was illuminated with sterilizing light. _Conditions are currently optimal_ , announced the computer.

Doctor Selar turned to her, holding an exo-scalpel in her gloved hand. Selar had been thoroughly examined upon her reappearance, and similar to Geordi, she and the other formerly missing crew members had no memory of the preceding 72 hours. They seemed unharmed physically at least, as anxious speculation grew as to how they had disappeared in the first place. "The patient is stabilizing," Selar said with utter calm. "However the hematoma has increased to 5 centimeters."

"The hemorrage is very close to the brain stem, Doctor," said Stein. "We've reached a critical point. We must begin now."

Crusher quickly finished sterilizing her skin and clothing and stepped closer to the surgical table. "Patient is human, male, 34 years old, sustained a depressed skull fracture to the occipital bone, as well as penetrating trauma to his left thigh from explosive projectile fragments." She leaned in and adjusted the neural caliper on Riker's forehead, which would keep him unconscious during surgery. He was situated on his right side to avoid the effected areas. The room vibrated as the ship was hit once more, but Crusher steadied herself. "Computer note the time...let's begin."

* * *

When Picard arrived on the bridge, he was surprised to see Lieutenant Worf at tactical. According to the report regarding the explosion inside Reth's quarters, Worf had been one of the officers present at the scene, and should have been in sickbay. But there was no time to determine just why Worf had been released for duty so soon, and he decided to trust that sickbay had done its job. Besides, he was well aware that Klingons were uninterested in discussing their wounds. "Mr. Worf, report."

"We have taken several hits from phase type weaponry, Captain. Shields are holding."

"Helm take us to 423 mark 5. Put some space between us and the lead cruiser."

"Taking fire," Worf reported.

"Return fire, phasers only."

The turbo lift doors opened and Data walked swiftly down to his post, pausing only be briefly. "Reporting for duty, sir." He continued to ops, smoothly relieving the officer on duty.

Picard stood up upon seeing Data's charred exterior. "Mr. Data, are you alright?"

Data turned slightly in his seat. "Yes, Captain. My operating efficiency level is currently 98.9 percent, just slightly below average. In the event that-"

"Thank you, Mr. Data, I have confidence in your efficiency. Man your post please."

"Aye sir."

"Lead ship is firing again."

Picard sighed. "Hail them."

"I have a visual Captain."

"On screen."

Premier Del's rotund frame suddenly dominated the large viewscreen. "You are outnumbered and outgunned, captain."

"That much is clear. What is _unclear_ , is why you are attacking another member of the Federation. You are part of the Federation now, aren't you Premier?"

"Not until you hand over Fon's murderer, Picard."

"Fon's murderer is dead," Picard responded flatly.

"What?"

"Reth killed himself by activating a bomb in his quarters just hours ago. In the process he injured several members of my crew."

"And how am I to be assured that your crew did not kill Reth?"

"Because I've never lied to you, Del."

"Neverthless, I suspect foul play."

"That is your prerogative, of course."

"In any case, I was referring to the Tranan boy. Just how long do you intend to hold onto him?"

"As long as it takes for you to see that you are wrong. This boy is no killer, Del."

"According to your own officer who witnessed the event, he is exactly that."

Picard clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace. When he stopped and turned back to Del, he could see the Ciapathian watching him intensely. _He's just posturing. He wants me to help him find a way out of this._ _And for now at least, we have a cease fire._ "I do not believe my officer's statement about what occurred that night, Del. There are too many inconsistencies."

"Then do you suspect LaForge is the killer?"

"No."

"Captain," Worf alerted him. "Federation Ambassador Class star ship _Apex_ is entering the sector."

 _Forrester has decided to make an appearance. What is his stake in all of this?_ He felt his heart begin to beat faster, but kept his tone even. "Send our greetings and find out their business, Mr. Worf."

Del was still hyper-focused on the subject at-hand. "You are calling your own officer a liar?"

"Del, you need to listen to what I have to say. There are sinister forces at work in your society, of which I also believe you are not aware. Doctor Petral has been experimenting on a group of cloned humans for some time."

"Nonsense!"

"Just hear me out! The Tranans are human beings who have been horribly tortured and had their DNA harvested by shadowy figures they call the Brethren. The Tranan boy Li identified Reth as being at the scene of Fon's death, and identified LaForge as intervening in an altercation between Reth and another Tranan who Reth murdered. Reth wounded LaForge and then both of their bodies disappeared-were...transported away."

"But LaForge returned unharmed, correct? This is all so outrageous, Picard."

"LaForge reappeared with a healing wound to his abdomen and very little memory of what happened to him that night. I believe that he and several other of my crew were taken on board Petral's ship and then returned to us, as part of some sadistic game he is playing. I believe that Fon was somehow in the way of Petral's plans, and that is why Reth killed him that night."

Del waved his hands fervently. "This is unbelievable-outrageous-"

"Del, come to your senses! You are being controlled by Petral." He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder at Worf, who held up his open palm. _Apparently I have five minutes more. Amiral Forrester has given me an ultimatum._ He turned back to the viewer. "Don't you want to know why Petral has such a hold on your society, Del? I know that what I am saying rings true to you. Let the Tranan boy stay with us. I will help you to bring the truth into the open about what Doctor Petral has been doing, and his connection to Fon's death."

Del nodded at someone off screen then smiled thinly at Picard. "A noble effort to confuse me Captain, but it appears that Starfleet Command has ensured the Tranan killer will be transferred to us within the hour. Good luck to you, Captain Picard. I have enjoyed our spirited discussions." The screen went black and Picard turned to Worf anxiously with an unspoken question.

"Admiral Forrester is demanding to board the Enterprise, Captain. He states he has an order from Starfleet Command that you need to review."

"Captain, the Ciapathian ships with the exception of the lead ship are beginning to exit the sector," Data reported. Picard watched as the ships shot away quickly disappearing from view.

"Damn!"

"Captain," Worf reported. "We have a transport into main sickbay."

"Mr. Data, you have the bridge."

* * *

"Well, the attacks seem to have stopped," Dr. Stein murmured. He was right, the deck had stopped shaking for the moment, which had helped them concentrate on completing the surgery. The red glow of the emergency lighting ceased as well.

"We've repaired the damage to his cranial nerve," Crusher said tensely. Riker's placid expression belied the difficulty of the procedure. She gestured to Selar, who was monitoring his vitals.

"The patient's heart rate is still erratic," reported Selar.

"Giving him ten ccs of betaxil to stabilize his heart and improve circulation. We need to keep his systolic rate low for the next few minutes," replied Crusher. "We're almost through the worst of it."

* * *

When Geordi LaForge walked out into main sickbay, he saw Deanna Troi standing with a thin, pale young man whom he didn't recognize. He wanted to approach her, but hesitated, and that's when a group of people unexpectedly transported into the middle of sickbay. He walked forward when he recognized Starfleet uniforms, but froze when the young man began screaming and pointing at him. "Golden! Golden!"

LaForge shook his head slowly, perplexed at this turn of events, even as the young man rushed toward him.

"Li!" Counselor Troi raced after him, as did a young woman who came running out of a nearby office.

Geordi held up his hands, taking a step back, as the young man fell to his knees and grabbed for Geordi's hand. "Golden, you live, you live!" The man kept shouting over and over, tugging with desperate joy at Geordi's hand.

"Hey, kid, please calm down," he said, glancing around with alarm. The young woman, grabbed Li around the shoulders and pulled him up to his feet, dragging him away from Geordi, as Troi assisted.

Seeing the almost frightened expression on LaForge's face, Troi reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Geordi, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were still here. It must be difficult for you to see Li this way after that horrible experience."

Geordi jerked back slightly. "Li? I had no idea who that was. That's Li...the Tranan?"

Troi was studying him perceptively. "Yes...Geordi, you identified Li as Fon's killer. Don't you remember?"

LaForge licked his lips nervously. "I-I have to go," he said backing up, looking utterly confused.

Captain Picard stepped briskly through the entryway, putting his hand on Geordi's shoulder and guiding him back inside. "Stay here with Counselor Troi, Lieutenant. That's an order." LaForge nodded silently, still looking stunned and confused.

Picard walked past them toward Rolani who was shielding Li protectively behind a bio bed. He talked quietly with Rolani before she stepped aside, allowing him to take Li by the arm.

* * *

Li walked sheepishly side by side with Picard, until the captain halted, surveying the group of security officers surrounding Admiral Forrester. "Admiral, I was informed you are in possession of orders from Command?" He continued to hold Li's upper arm firmly, and could feel the young man trembling. Shifting his gaze slightly for the first time, he saw Wesley Crusher sitting down a safe distance away, watching the scene with wide eyes.

Admiral Forrester handed Picard a data pad with a smug expression. "You've made a valiant, if misguided effort Captain. But the time has come to do the right thing."

Doctor Crusher emerged from an adjacent room, undoing her surgical gear as she walked decisively toward them. "Excuse me, but what the hell is going on in my sickbay?"

"Not now, doctor," Picard said quietly, still reading the data pad. Presently he handed it back to Forrester. "Admiral, it is plain that you and I differ on what exactly doing the right thing is."

"If you believe that violating the Prime Directive, obstructing justice, and punching the Ciapathian leader in the face are the right things Picard, yes we certainly disagree."

"Del attempted to assault a member of my crew," Picard snapped.

"These outbursts and excuses are uncharacteristic of you, Captain Picard."

"These are uncharacteristic times, Admiral."

"Nevertheless, I will be sure to include these episodes in your personnel file going forward."

Picard clenched his jaw. "I would like to speak to the writer of that order, Admiral. Before taking any other steps."

"You're out of your depth here, Picard...Admiral Nechayev said you would try to call in a favor to her. So she personally wrote this directive ordering you to hand the boy over."

"And if I refuse?"

"You hand over your command to me, and I take the boy anyway." Forrester waved a security officer over, who grabbed Li by the arm, but Picard held fast. That was when Rolani began shouting at the top of her lungs in a language that only Li understood. She rushed at Forrester, but two security officers restrained her. She continued to flail and struggle, as another security man took out wrist restraints, and clasped one on Li's free hand. Picard shifted his feet and saw the remaining officer walk behind him and before he knew it, his free hand was now in an energy restraint. The officer grasped his other arm, pulling it behind his back. The guard quickly punched in a code and his hands were now immovable. Rarely had he been so humiliated.

"Captain Picard, you are being temporarily detained while this imperative is carried out," Admiral Forrester said, as Li was now in custody. "Once we have beamed back to the _Apex_ , you will be free to resume your duties. Meanwhile, rest assured that additional orders related to your insubordination will be forthcoming."

* * *

The Enterprise crew watched helplessly as a terrified Li, surrounded by Admiral Forrester's contingent was whisked away in a transporter beam. A few seconds later, as programmed the restraints deactivated, and Picard brought his hand up to tap his communicator. "Picard to Lieutenant Worf, status."

 _"The lead Ciapathian ship and the USS Apex have engaged warp drive and have exited the system, sir. Should we pursue?"_

"Negative, Lieutenant. Maintain this position, Picard out."

He turned to Beverly, feeling his anger begin to surface and threaten to bubble over. He felt the veins in his neck pulsing as he tried to think of something constructive to say. "How is Commander Riker?" he heard himself say.

She blinked, seeming to understand that for the moment it was best to talk about something other than the horrible thing that had just happened. "Will is going to be fine. He made it through surgery fine and is strong. I expect he should be released from sickbay within the week."

He nodded. "Good work, Doctor. Please commend your staff for me."

She smiled softly. "I will, thank you."

He turned to leave, but Rolani rushed him, slapping and punching him. He raised his forearms to ward off the blows, as she screamed things at him which he did not need a translator to understand. Security moved in to pull Rolani away, and then she fell into Troi's arms, sobbing. Well aware that the Tranan leader's rage was justified, Picard backed away, and then left without another word.

* * *

 **Thanks for following! To be continued...**


	38. Chapter 38

**One week later...**

"Fold." When Geordi LaForge got up from the poker table and excused himself for the night, no one thought anything of it. Like everyone else there, he had seemed to have been enjoying himself, and had expressed relief at finally being allowed to relax after the events of the previous week. "Thanks for inviting me, Commander. That was fun."

"Fun? Ohhh... come on LaForge, you can't give up that easy!" Will Riker stretched his long arms up over his head. He had invited the senior and bridge officers to his quarters for a game of poker to try and lift morale and celebrate his impending return to duty. Of course, the captain had politely declined. But Riker had been so happy about his own quick recovery from his injuries, that he hadn't felt slighted by the Captain's refusal to play cards with his crew. The captain had been so buried in administrative work since his confrontation with Admiral Forrester, that he'd been quiet and elusive. Riker was beginning to see that at times like these, he was best left alone.

Will studied Geordi's face. Physically he looked the same since before his startling disappearance, but everyone seemed to sense that he hadn't quite recovered emotionally from his ordeal, which despite the fact that he couldn't remember it, had impacted him immensely. "Anytime, Geordi," Riker said.

Geordi smiled back rather oddly. "I should get back up to the bridge. See you all later," he added with a small wave.

"Bye Geordi," Doctor Crusher said, glancing up from her hand. As good as it was to see Will up and around, she was feeling very distracted. She felt Deanna's gaze, but shrugged off the gentle brush against her psyche. She liked Troi, and was beginning to understand that Troi's empathy came first from her personality, and that her abilities to sense feelings were not the first method she relied on to counsel others. It made her feel much less guarded around the counselor.

Riker nodded over at Deanna. "What about you, Deanna? Are you still in?"

Troi rolled her eyes at Will's teasing grin and then glanced sideways at Data, who should have been unreadable, but for some reason kept wiggling his eyebrows in a bizarre manner. The problem was she couldn't tell if it meant he had a winning hand or not. The android had just raised the stakes, and given the weakness of her own hand, she was reluctant to stay in. "Fold, she said, with a yawn.

Riker began to chuckle. "Getting sleepy? Not that old trick..."

Beverly glanced from Troi to Riker with a small smile. The former couple wasn't shy about alluding to their history, which she personally found very refreshing; so she didn't mind listening to their many inside jokes, as it brought some levity to the somber mood around the ship lately.

Yar, who had been eyeing the rest of the players so intensely, suddenly pushed two stacks of chips forward. "I raise you twenty-five," she said confidently, not taking her eyes off of the android.

"Call," Crusher said, tossing in enough chips to stay in the game, before giving Will a sweet smile.

He matched her smile and threw his cards down dramatically. "I fold..."

Data coolly laid out his cards, then Yar and Crusher followed.

Riker pointed down at Data's cards. "Wow...that's a great hand, Data."

"If by great you mean winning, you are correct sir."

Yar swore under her breath, but then quickly shrugged off the loss. She looked around the table. "Are we still playing?"

* * *

 **About one hour later...**

Picard was studying one of the many Ciapathian legal texts he had loaded onto his private console when Lieutenant LaForge walked on to the bridge. First, it was odd because LaForge wasn't scheduled for duty at that time, and secondly instead of proceeding to his usual post at the helm he just stood there silently.

Picard rose to his feet stiffly. He had been so immersed in finding some loophole in either Federation or Ciapathian law to find a way to release Li back into Starfleet custody, that he had been neglecting most physical activities, as well as rest. As a result his body felt like it had been tied into a knot.

"Mr. LaForge," he called out briskly, in an attempt to gain the young man's attention. "Lieutenant!" he said sharply, when LaForge continued to stare aimlessly at the wall.

Geordi turned his head slightly to regard the captain and his forehead creased, as though trying to remember something elusive. Now alarmed, Picard walked up the ramp toward his helm officer. Finally, the Visor turned in his direction.

"Sir?"

He lowered his voice. "Mr. LaForge, you're not scheduled for duty until 0800 tomorrow morning...is something wrong?"

LaForge appeared surprised at the question, but didn't immediately have an answer at hand. His lips trembled and he seemed stymied by the captain's query. "I-I don't know sir."

"Then why are you here?"

"Um...I don't know, sir."

"All the more reason to return to your quarters for a good night's rest, Lieutenant."

LaForge watched him with seemingly vague recognition, before finally nodding. "Yes sir."

Picard forced an amiable nod even as he began to be filled with inexplicable dread. "Good night then."

"Good night, sir."

* * *

Riker had been laughing loudly when the door alarm sounded and he leaned back over his shoulder to call out, "Come in!"

The doors opened and Captain Picard stepped briskly into the First Officer's quarters looking irritated and hurried. All laughter and casual banter immediately ceased. His gaze fixed immediately on Troi, as he proceeded to ignore everyone else. "Counselor, my apologies for intruding on your leisure time, but something's come up." He didn't bother to acknowledge anyone else in the room.

Deanna got up gracefully from the table, simultaneously wondering why the captain had not just contacted her by communicator, and then remembered she'd taken hers off. She was off-duty after all. "Of course, sir," she said following him back out in the hallway.

Once they were alone she watched him patiently, but already had some idea of why he had come to find her.

He lifted one hand to rub his jaw, as though pondering something. Finally he looked up at her. "Something is still not right with Mr. LaForge."

Troi pressed her lips together. "I know, sir," she admitted slowly. "Unfortunately, I've been unable to ascertain exactly what that is."

He sighed. "Doctor Crusher has reported similar conclusions. But...I'd like you to try again, Counselor."

"Right now, sir?"

He shook his head. "No. But I want you to go and see him at 0700 tomorrow morning, before his shift."

"Understood, captain." She gestured in back of her with a smile. "We were just going to begin another round. Care to join us, sir?"

"Mmm...no. But thank you for the offer, counselor."

"Anytime, sir."

* * *

Troi and Picard had been talking quietly in the corridor, and Crusher tried not to look too obvious while she lingered nearby while they finished their conversation. Troi gave her a subtle look as she passed by her and walked back in to Riker's quarters. The Captain gave her a quick nod, before turning on his heel. He nearly tripped when she called after him in mid-step.

"I'd really like to talk to you..." she said as he spun back around to look at her impatiently.

Of course he had already regained his composure. "About what?"

"About what happened last week, with Li...and about how such a traumatic situation has affected us..." She trailed off, not really sure where she was going with this, but something compelled her to persist.

"Doctor...I have encouraged all staff to meet with Counselor Troi as they feel is necessary around these issues."

"That's not what I meant. I don't want to talk to Troi again, I want to talk to you," she insisted, and she became quickly embarrassed by her own honesty, and when his expression remained stoic, she blushed. He glanced away uncomfortably.

"Oh, _I see_...I'm supposed to believe this horrible situation has had absolutely no effect on you, is that right? That you're not bothered by the fact that Rolani is on the holodeck running things like a dictator and is completely out of control? That Geordi might never be the same, and we don't even know why?"

"I didn't _say_ any of that," he protested quietly.

"Well, you're not saying much of anything lately, are you Captain?" To her own ears she sounded angry, and it wasn't what she had intended. But still, he continued to frustrate her.

He put his hands behind his back and looked down at his boots.

"Look," she continued more gently. "I know you're concerned about everything I just mentioned, because you haven't stopped studying the computer library for the past six days." She paused, but he didn't say anything, though he had now raised his gaze to meet hers. "And I know you blame yourself for everything that's happened to the Tranans, and are doing everything in your power to continue to help them. Just...I don't understand why you don't want to get some of this off of your chest. You ordered everyone to talk to Counselor Troi, but did you even talk to Troi yourself?"

He hesitated. "Yes."

She watched him with growing curiosity. "You really have no intention of discussing this subject any further, do you?"

"Not at this time, no."

She crossed her arms, now determined to obtain a reaction. "Okay...well how about talking to my son, then?"

Picard's eyebrows shot up. "Hmm? What?"

"He's completely lost over Hatha. He's been too uncomfortable to discuss it with me or Troi. You were there with him when she decided to leave the Enterprise. Maybe he'll talk to you about it."

"Oh... Doctor, I don't think I could assist him with that...issue," he finally clarified, unsure how else to characterize her son's love life.

"Why?" She demanded.

He sighed and suddenly wished for Troi's presence, a reaction that only made him more annoyed.

"I just don't think I'm the right person to talk to your son."

"That's not a real answer, Jean-Luc."

"Sorry to disappoint you," he said flatly.

She looked at him for a moment longer. "I'm sorry too," she said quietly, before walking away.

He clenched his fist tightly, as he watched her depart.

* * *

 **Later that evening...**

He waited tensely after ringing the doorbell twice. Perhaps she had gone to bed early, but then he heard footsteps coming toward the door. She would be able to tell it was him before opening the door, so he kept his face very neutral and stared at the door. Presently it opened, and Beverly stood in the doorway with a surprised expression. She was still dressed in her off duty clothes, which he appreciated were casual, but not too distracting.

"Hello," she said, after a few moments of silence. He realized he had been staring at her blankly.

"Can I get you anything? How about some tea?"

He cleared his throat as she walked across the room away from him. "Alright...yes thank you." All hope of making a quick escape was fading.

"Let me guess," she murmured from the replicator. "Earl Grey...hot?"

"Apparently I'm consistent when ordering tea."

"For as long as I've known you," she said, walking back over and handing him the steaming cup. She sipped her own cup of tea, watching him over the rim. "Which reminds me...you and I and Jack used to play cards regularly when I was on the Stargazer."

He smiled slightly. "Yes, that's true." His smile widened in remembrance, but then just as quickly, faded. "How true," he said in a quieter voice.

"I was just wondering why you turned down Will's invitation. He didn't say so, but I could tell he was disappointed."

Picard shrugged. "I'm not the best company lately," he admitted.

She returned his shrug and sat down at a nearby table. When he continued to stand there, she gestured for him to sit down. "Care to join me?"

He sat down slowly and put his cup down with a click. "Thank you. Actually, Beverly..."

"How nice...we're on a first name basis again," she said softly.

He sighed, unsure of how to respond to that, so he didn't. "In any case, I came to see the b-...I came to see Wesley. To talk to him, as you suggested."

She brightened noticeably. "Oh? Well, I'm sure he's still awake." She got up from the table. "I'll go and get him," she said almost excitedly, and had disappeared into the next room before he could change his mind again.

A few minutes later, Wesley Crusher sat across from him, his large brown eyes wide and alert, despite the late hour. Beverly stood nearby and put a hand on her son's shoulder. "I'll leave you two alone," she said with a grateful nod at Jean-Luc. Wesley looked as though he wanted to protest her leaving, but he clearly wanted to make a statement that he could do this without his mother. "Thanks, Mom," he mumbled as she left.

Picard spun his empty tea mug around absently on the table in front of him. "So..."

Wesley tapped the table nervously with his fingertips, not ready to utter a sound.

"Your mother tells me you've been having a difficult time since the events of last week."

Wesley scrunched up his face. "Uh, no not really! I mean, yeah, I guess so."

Picard lifted his eyebrows. "I see," he said, even though he didn't.

Wes stared down at the table. "It's just...well how do you get over a girl?" Gradually he raised his eyes to look at the Captain.

Picard was suddenly flooded with dread at the blunt question. He struggled for the answer and appropriate words, simultaneously considering getting up to leave. "You don't," he said eventually.

Wesley's mouth dropped open. "What? You mean I'm going to feel like this forever?"

Picard smiled at the boy's innocence. "There will be other girls...if you happen to be lucky. And each time, you will feel the pain from your first experience like this fade a bit more. But you will never forget how it felt. As difficult as this has been for you, Wesley, I think as you grow older, you'll realize that you wouldn't want to forget."

The boy seemed to be letting it all sink in. "Has this kind of thing ever happened to you?"

Picard sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "Yes..."

Wes seemed encouraged by this admission. "So...I just have to wait it out. Or..." He was now watching Picard intently. "I could contact Hatha and find out how she is and whether... whether she still cares about me."

Picard rubbed his chin, beginning to feel less comfortable. "You sound very much like your father right now...like Jack."

"Really?" Wesley was now beaming, and it caused Jean-Luc to feel more than a tinge of sadness.

"Yes," he confirmed. "But I'm afraid you cannot contact anyone on Ciapathia right now. In fact we're under strict orders not to do so."

"I'm worried about her, sir," the teen suddenly blurted out.

Picard nodded. "I know. The most I can promise you is that as soon as I am able to contact Premier Del, I will inquire about her status, and let you know." He started to get up from the table, but the young man continued to talk.

"I just can't believe their society would force her to marry Doctor Petral. The whole idea of it just makes me sick."

Picard put a hand on Wes' shoulder. "Try not to think of it so much, then. It's not doing either you or Hatha any good right now."

"How do I just forget about my feelings, though?"

For some reason, this struck him deeply, but he didn't quite know why. He let go of the teen's shoulder. "I've given you all the counsel I should on this, young man," he said attempting to not sound as cold as he now felt. "I think you'll find I am not the best example when it comes to dealing with affairs of the heart." Wesley's forlorn expression only convinced him to leave more quickly. "Have a good night, and please give your mother my regards."

"Thank you, sir."

* * *

 **Early the next morning...**

Deanna Troi had already signaled for Geordi LaForge three times, before she realized something was very wrong. It wasn't exactly that she sensed he was in distress; rather she sensed... nothing at all. She used her emergency override code to open his door and rushed inside his quarters. The problem was immediately obvious, or so she thought. _He's collapsed!_ "Geordi," she shouted, rushing to his still form, which lay face down on the deck. She knelt down, and put a hand on his shoulder blade. _Oh no, oh no...hes dead!_


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

 **The Laboratory**

The tapping had ceased a long time ago. Hours, days, what did it matter? The tapping had been his last link to being human-it was an emergency code he and the other person had been familiar with. They were both once Starfleet officers before they'd ended up here. They had shared that in common. Just as they shared this predicament. This violation. At least they had shared it until the tapping had stopped. He replayed the last message in his brain over and over again. _This is Selar. They are coming for me. You must stay alive._ Then a rush of the suspension fluid onto the floor and a clamor of shouts, and the sound of limbs slipping all over the floor. _She's fighting them._ Then silence.

Now as he floated, drugged and barely conscious he remembered and wished he could simply hear the tapping again, and feel that connection. He wished for any sound, any reminder that he was human. Until he heard it. Another kind of tapping, slow and lazy on the outside of the glass tube which was his home. His legs began to flail involuntarily. The tap came again.

"LaForge, you might be wondering about the others...the Vulcan especially? The answer is; I let them go. I captured their DNA, enough for many, many duplicates if I so wish. So...now you are wondering, 'when will Doctor Petral set me free?' The answer is, not until I am forced to, because you see you are nothing but a lure. Soon, very soon your colleagues will realize that you are still alive, and they will come valiantly to your rescue. And then I shall have my newest bride."

* * *

 **April 2354**

"Jean-Luc, unlock the goddamn door!"

"Go away," he muttered again, rolling the empty wine bottle back and forth across his kitchen table under his hand. He'd almost drifted off to sleep, his cheek resting against the tabletop.

"This is crazy, the ceremony is happening in 45 minutes...open this door."

He dropped his head into his hands, before waving his hand up at the ceiling. "Computer override personal security module."

Out of breath and soaking wet, Captain Walker Keel fell, rather than walked into Picard's tiny apartment. His full weight had been pressed against the door when it swung inward, and he staggered, only just keeping himself from a face plant. He stood there glaring at his friend, chest heaving from having ran up a very steep series of hills in the driving rain. "The hills," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath. "I always forget about the hills in San Francisco."

Picard turned slowly in his seat to regard his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to call you for three days. Are you giving the eulogy today or not?"

Picard wiped a hand over his face. "I can't do this, Walker."

Keel flopped down in the chair next to him, and began trying to wring his suit dry. "What do you mean you can't? You already wrote it, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. But I can't get up there and speak. I simply cannot look at her."

Walker leaned forward. "Then _don't_...just don't make eye contact with her."

"It's not that simple anymore. I can't face her."

Walker glanced at the empty wine bottle. "The vineyard's finest, I see."

"I was going to give it to Jack...to _them_ for their anniversary this summer."

"You can't even say her name, can you?" Walker looked at his friend with growing sympathy. "It's obvious you are drowning in guilt, but it's not doing anyone any good. Beverly is going to be there, and you will need to face her. That's what we do at times like this. Jesus...after all you're the one who taught me to always face things head on."

"She hates me," Picard whispered, seeming to ignore his friend. "She has every right to..."

" _Why?_ Talk to me."

Picard shook his head. "No." He felt tears begin to burn in his eyes and he turned away with embarrassment.

Walker put a hand on his shoulder. "You're drunk...all the more reason I should give the eulogy instead. Let me see what you wrote." Walker grabbed a data pad next to Jean-Luc's elbow. Quickly reading, he tossed the pad back down exasperated. "You can't read this, that's for sure. It reads like a a confession. Jean-Luc, you were cleared of any responsibility for Jack's death."

Jean-Luc stared at Walker through watery eyes. "Officially. Unofficially...I'm not so sure about that."

"What are you talking about-you tried to save Jack, but it was a horrible, horrible accident." He suddenly grabbed his friend's hand, and didn't let go when Picard tried to pull away. "Listen to me... we're all hurting from this, Beverly and Wesley most of all. You can't let them down."

"I already have!" Picard suddenly exploded, smashing the wine bottle on the table.

Walker jumped up from the table, his friend now staring down absently at the broken glass.

Walker leaned down. "This is eventually what happens when you bottle everything up, Jean-Luc."

"For better or for worse, it's the way I am."

"No kidding." Walker sat back down slowly. "This isn't just about Jack...I know that, and you know that."

Jean-Luc merely stared at Walker with an almost defiant look. He had no intention of re-hashing his feelings for Beverly with Walker again. Walker was right though. He needed to break out of his depression and become reliable once more...if only for one evening. He resolved then that after the funeral he would request an extended leave. The fact that there had been no court martial, didn't matter. He needed to escape, and had no intention of returning to his command. Not yet.

"Go ahead and stay silent for now. I can't afford to lose the friendship the three of us share. Not now that Jack is gone. Be warned that when all of this is over, you and I are going to talk about this _thing_ between you and Beverly."

Picard made a face. "Come on, Walker..that was simply in my head... a fantasy from the past. Nothing more."

"Really? You should see yourself here in the present...in real time. You're a mess. You might be fooling everyone else, but not me."

Picard gave a sharp laugh before he got up and walked away from the table, to grab his coat. "You win. Let's go."

"Good, my tactic worked." Walker jumped up from his seat. "Let's get out of here." Jean Luc was already out the door, and he hurried to catch up. Once they were in step, he raised the subject again.

"She doesn't hate you, but I know for a fact that she wanted answers about Jack's death that Command would not give her. And neither would you-"

Picard looked over at Walker sharply, abruptly slowing his pace. "Is that what she told you? That I wouldn't tell her?"

"You have to admit you basically went silent for the last two weeks..."

"I didn't go silent Walker...I've been under investigation..."

"Then I'm sure she'll understand when you tell her."

"Walker, I don't think that I-"

Walker cut him off, smooth as ever. "Anyway..she came to me, and I snuck her a copy of the mission report. She knows everything now, and she knows you did your best to save our friend."

Picard halted, grabbed Walker by the front of his coat and shook him. "Enough! I don't want to discuss this again, Walker...I mean it."

Walker grabbed his wrist roughly. "You can't prevent the rest of us from talking about Jack...what he meant to us."

Regretting his erratic behavior, he let go of Walker's coat. "I'm sorry...that's not what I meant to say..."

"But you did mean that you want to be alone in your grief and anger...well it doesn't work that way, old friend. If Beverly wants to know what really happened to Jack, then you can damn well bet she's going to find out the truth."

 _The truth..._

He sat straight up with a gasp. Jean-Luc had fallen asleep in his uniform on top of his sheets. He swung his legs over the side and gruffly demanded to know the time. The computer replied: _0600 hours._

 _Time to get up anyway, and face what is to come._ He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly and saw that he'd fallen asleep with the data pad next to him. The one that held the eulogy for Geordi LaForge.

* * *

"Mom, I don't think I can go tonight."

Beverly paused over her cup of coffee. She realized they had both been silent over breakfast. She put her cup down and looked closely at her son. His features were drawn and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. "Wesley, of course I won't force you to go. Do you want to talk about it?"

The teen shrugged and slumped over his cereal. "I don't understand how it could have happened...how could he have just-just _died_?"

Beverly clasped her hands underneath her chin, and attempted an answer. Of course she had done the post-mortem examination herself, but frustratingly there were no clear answers why Geordi LaForge had sustained a fatal heart attack. "The best answer I can give, Wes, is that Geordi disappeared under unclear circumstances, and while he was gone, something horrible happened to him. When he returned he was not the same. He'd been injured..I tried to heal him, but it's possible that I missed something." She felt a sense of guilt she hadn't before, now faced with her son, who had grown close to LaForge in just a short time.

Wesley's eyes narrowed and his tone grew bitter. "It's not your fault, Mom. The Ciapathians kidnapped him...just like they did the others."

"The Captain certainly believes that is what happened."

""But he can't prove it...if I could help him find the truth, I would."

She smiled. "I know you would, Wes."

"Don't tell him that, though," he added quickly.

She sighed. "Your secret is safe with me. But I would have thought you and he were on a more conversational basis after having that heart-to heart the other night."

"Uh...I wouldn't actually call it that."

She tried to dampen her curiosity but could not. Picking up her coffee again she prompted him to continue. "Oh?"

"Everything was fine until I started asking him about his love life."

She coughed and put her coffee down clumsily. "What?"

He leaned back and appealed to the ceiling. "Mom, I'm so embarrassed!"

"Um...it's alright, Wes. I know that Hatha leaving has affected you deeply, and and that's why you asked him personal questions, right?"

Wesley nodded, but still looked anxious.

"Wes, I'm sure he was fine. He's got other things on his mind now anyway."

Wesley grew sad once more. "Is Captain Picard going to give the speech tonight?"

"The eulogy? Yes, as the commanding officer it's his duty."

"That must be hard."

"Yes."

"...so he was the commanding officer when Dad died." There was a long pause, and his gaze dropped to the table. "What did he say about Dad? All I remember is Dad's face and how hard it was raining that day."

To her surprise, tears sprang to her eyes. She took her napkin and dabbed at her cheek. "Yes it was really pouring wasn't it?"

Wesley reached out his hand apologetically. "Sorry Mom, I shouldn't have brought it up."

She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. "No, no, it's okay. You have the right to know anything i can tell you about your father. It's just that...well Jean-Luc didn't give the eulogy for Jack. Walker did."

"Why?"

She stared into the distance for a few moments, then shook her head. "Something happened...I don't really remember. All I know is that he was expected to do it, and didn't." She rubbed her arms, feeling a chill she hadn't felt in years. "I was...very, very angry then. It took everything I had to get through that ceremony. If it wasn't for Walker during the first few months after Jack died, I don't know what I would have done."

"Who were you angry at? I thought it was an accident."

"I was angry at the universe I guess. For taking Jack away from me...from us, in such a cruel and arbitrary way. And at Starfleet..."

"Were you mad at Captain Picard?"

She let a small smile slip, as she watched Wesley's perceptive brown eyes and remembered a five year old boy. And in the next split second she recalled Jean-Luc leaving without saying goodbye properly. She felt almost as new that humiliating urge to follow him out the door, as he slipped silently out of her home full of mourners. Back in the present, the smile left her lips. She hugged herself, and leaned against the table. "Yes."

"But why?"

After all these years she couldn't explain it to herself, let alone to her son. Still, she tried. "He distanced himself from me, even from Walker, after Jack was killed. It was a shock, and it happened at a time when I needed support." She shrugged and looked at the wall, wondering why it still mattered so much to her. "He wasn't there for me."

* * *

 _Try her again. Do your duty, Captain._

He reached out to tap the computer screen, which responded in a mellow voice. " _Resuming call._ "

The distracted face of a very striking middle-aged woman suddenly graced the screen. Captain Silva LaForge blinked twice before recognition set in, but her gaze was questioning. "Captain Picard?"

He adjusted his features appropriately, but his words came out too quickly. "Captain LaForge...I apologize for interrupting your travels, I've been trying to contact you for two days now."

"We've been out in deep space studying a series of nebulae, Captain...there must have been some kind of subspace interference...of course, you understand."

"Of course."

"I appreciate the call, but what can I do for you?"

He cleared his throat. "Captain...I regret to inform you that there has been a terrible incident involving Lieutenant LaForge."

She moved closer to the screen. "Geordi? Captain, what's happened to my son?"

Doctor Crusher's voice drifted in his head. _The results of the post-mortem exam are inconclusive, Captain...but it appears that cardiac arrest was the cause of death. It's unthinkable, that such a thing would happen. It makes absolutely no sense._

"Silva...Geordi sustained a heart attack. He died two days ago."

"A heart attack? But...how could such a thing have happened?"

"We are still piecing it together, Captain, but I assure you-I promise you, that I will have answers for you the next time we speak."

She slumped backward in her chair. "Captain Picard...what answer could possibly make me feel better about my son dying? After only less than one month into his Enterprise tour...he was so excited," she trailed off and looked away.

"He was a fine officer...I am so sorry."

Her professional facade returned suddenly as she faced him again. "You'll have a service for him on board?"

He nodded. "Yes. Is there anything in particular you would like me to say?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'll make arrangements for his body to be returned home to Earth and we will have a service there in a few days."

"Is there anything...anything at all I can do?"

"No. You've done your duty, Captain," she allowed. "LaForge out."

* * *

"Captain De Soto of the Hood sends his condolences, sir. The messages have been pouring in over the last few hours, Captain. Do you want them sent to your personal computer?"

Picard ceased rubbing his forehead for a moment and glanced up at the young ensign. He tried to keep too much of the gruffness out of his voice, but probably did not succeed. "No. But please coordinate with Counselor Troi. It may be appropriate to display some of those at the ceremony tonight." The officer stood there awkwardly for a moment as though wanting to say something, but couldn't find the words. "That will be all for now, Ensign," said the captain as gently as possible.

He watched as the man left his ready room, very aware that he needed to say something at the funeral ceremony which would allow the crew to begin to heal, but for now, had nothing. To be struck by this kind of loss so early in their journey seemed for the moment insurmountable. Unfortunately he had experienced loss of crew members and colleagues at multiple points in his career. Each time he steeled himself to not feel the pain and sorrow, but it never really worked. It had been just eleven years since Jack's violent death, and at times he could not avoid thinking about his friend and his continued anger at how such a life could have been cut short.

 _Incoming message from the Ciapathian Citadel._

"On screen," he said with more than a note of surprise. His hand curled into a tense fist, as the screen wavered and a familiar face appeared. "Del," he said flatly.

The stout Ciapathian leader got right to the point. "I've been considering your offer, Captain Picard."

Picard tilted his head as though trying to hear better. "Excuse me if I don't recall."

"You offered to help me find the truth about Doctor Petral. To expose his evil to my people..."

"To use an old Earth expression, Premier Del, that ship has sailed. You made sure of that when you convinced Admiral Forrester to take the young Tranan man into your custody by force."

The jowly red face leaned into the screen. "Forrester didn't need much convincing, Picard. He had an agenda, I tell you."

Picard was visibly unmoved, although the mention of Forrester made his stomach roil. "Regardless of either of your motives you caused harm to that young man and the other Tranan people. They are permanently traumatized by the loss of Li."

"What if I told you that it is possible for the Tranan boy to be returned to your care?"

"I don't play games that involve the lives of others, Del. Of all things about me, you should know that by now. Now out with it," he nearly shouted. "What do you want?"

"I need your help. I need your help to take down Petral. He's amassed far too much power."

"Your a Federation member now, Del, take it up with the Council."

"But-"

"I'm afraid recent events take precedence over my interest in the affairs of your world," he said shortly. An image of Geordi LaForge's still form shrouded in the darkness of the Enterprise morgue was fixed in his mind. He reached out to cut the connection. "Picard out."


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40**

Beverly stopped by her quarters at lunchtime, and Wesley appeared to be busy at her work desk building some kind of contraption. School had been called off for the day in honor of Geordi LaForge's funeral, but Wesley's intelligent mind still needed stimulation, not to mention distraction from recent events.

"What are you working on? Something for school?" She approached and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up startled, but then shrugged, embarassed.

He quickly shoved a small data pad out of the way, and began fiddling with his science project. Beverly eyed the data pad, but decided not to say anything. "Oh...um, it's a security device, designed to boost our detection sensors. I started working on it after everything happened with Geordi going missing..."

She squeezed his shoulder, resisted bending down to kiss him, and instead walked to the replicator. She wasn't particularly hungry, but knew she had to eat something. "Honey crisp apple, please," she said and the requested fruit swirled into existence. She took a noisy bite and her eyes fell on Wesley's data pad again. Had he been writing to Hatha? She didn't want to be pushy, but she couldn't help but be his mother. "I know there are certain subjects that you don't want to discuss with me...but I want you to know that I am here for you, Wes."

"I know, Mom."

"I'm sorry about what happened with Hatha. It's not fair." None of it was.

He was silent for a few minutes, while she finished her apple. Then he said, "it just seems like if the Ciapathians are members of the Federation now, I should be able to communicate with her through subspace."

"I'm afraid we're under orders not to contact Ciapathia."

"I know...Captain Picard told me that. He also told me he would try and find out how she is doing."

"If he said that, I'm sure he will follow through, Wes."

Wesley turned back to work on his project. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see then." A moment later, he looked up at the sound of beeping. "Mom, you've got a call."

Frowning, she moved to her personal console. "It's a priority one message. I'd better take this in my room."

* * *

Few officers exuded a sense of Starfleet like Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev. And yet, Beverly Crusher was familiar with the woman behind the command desk. As familiar as one could be with Admiral Nechayev. She also was aware that according to Admiral Forrester, Nechayev had personally given the order to hand Li over to the Ciapathians. If that was true, Beverly had to be careful. Nechayev's already pinched features seemed even more intense than usual.

"Admiral."

Nechayev tapped her desk on the other side of screen. _"I need you to do something for me, Doctor Crusher."_

"Sir?"

 _"I need you to confirm a theory for me. Where is Lieutenant LaForge's body?"_

Beverly's inner suspicion was suddenly magnified, but the most she allowed Nechayev to see was her slight hesitation. "LaForge's body is in the morgue. Tomorrow it will be sent to Earth for a ceremony there with his family. Why do you ask?"

 _"It is vital that the ceremony on Earth not take place."_

She felt immediately defensive. "What? Admiral, what is _vital_ , is that Geordi's family be permitted some semblance of closure."

 _"Your compassion and empathy are duly noted, Beverly. Aside from your immense skill, that is what sets you apart from your lesser colleagues."_

"Admiral, I just don't understand why-"

 _"Did you perform an autopsy, Doctor?"_

"Well, yes. Within the parameters given to me by Command."

 _"You mean, by Admiral Forrester..."_ The inquisitive expression on Nechayev's face had grown hard.

"Does it matter? The orders came down from Command."

 _"It matters greatly."_

"Admiral, may I speak frankly?"

Nechayev allowed for a small smile. " _Do you have any other way of speaking, Doctor?"_

Crusher ignored the jab, not hesitating further. "Quite _frankly_ , I was shocked and disappointed that I would be limited in any way from carrying out my duties. I was incredibly suspicious of that order, as I am of your current line of questioning."

 _"Your disappointment and suspicion are noted, Commander, and perhaps well-placed,"_ was all her superior offered in response. _"Did you perform any other tests?"_

She shook her head slowly. "I was expressly ordered not to."

Vice Admiral Nechayev sighed. _"I am now overriding that order. I"ll need you to perform genetic testing on the body immediately, and send the results my way. Don't analyze the data you find too closely, Doctor. In fact, don't review the results at all."_

"Is that an order?"

 _"Why yes. Instead I'll have my people look the data over and report back to you."_

"You're asking me to run tests on Geordi's body, but not review the results? Why the secrecy?"

 _"If all goes well, I will be able to answer that question fully for you, Doctor. But for now, all I can offer, is that I am on the right side of this...unlike some of my colleagues."_

Beverly didn't know how to respond to this concerning statement. "How soon do you need the results?"

 _"Certainly before the funeral ceremony takes place tonight on board the Enterprise."_

She nodded grimly. "Understood. And what am I to tell Captain Picard?"

 _"Nothing yet. Any further explanation of this matter to Captain Picard should come from me."_

* * *

 ** _A few hours later..._**

She was walking quickly; so quickly that he actually had to hurry to catch up. She was of course wearing the same all black dress uniform he was: the one reserved for only the most solemn occasions. She walked with her head down as though in deep thought, which was probably the case.

"Doctor," he called out as he drew closer. Startled, her head snapped around, and she slowed her pace. To his inner delight, she smiled at him.

"Captain...good to see you." The sentiment sounded genuine, but something in her eyes told him she was holding something back. Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to ask her for her opinion on this subject.

He nodded and returned her smile, but his confidence ebbed when she looked down at the data pad he was carrying. Following her gaze, he again felt the stress of the evening pressing upon him. Steeling himself, he held the pad up. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to look this over." She raised an eyebrow when he paused. "It's the eulogy for Mr. LaForge. If you wouldn't mind, I would appreciate your input."

She hesitated, but then smiled warmly and took the pad from him. He hadn't been in close proximity to her in a few days, and was surprised by the effect it had on him. "Of course," she said softly, and lowered her gaze to the screen. He found he was staring at her, and when she lifted her eyes, he looked away quickly. Clearing his throat, he stepped away to allow her some space.

"Jean-Luc..."

He glanced up, to see her holding out the data pad. As he took it from her, she wiped a tear that had emerged from her eye. "It's lovely," she said. "I had no idea that you knew Geordi before his posting here." The conversation with Nechayev came back to her, and she shuddered inwardly. Earlier that afternoon she had run the tests Nechayev had ordered. She had obeyed the Admiral's order, and had sent the result directly to Command without reviewing them. But it didn't matter. She knew the truth now. She had checked one of the scans from the autopsy with the results of LaForge's most recent physical after the Tsiolkofsky viral incident. Just as an afterthought...and now she knew that whoever was lying in the ship's morgue was not Geordi. This person's eyesight had been tampered with-he had been deliberately blinded by a medical procedure. Perhaps the real Geordi was somewhere else, or perhaps he had also been killed. But she, the holder of this terrible information could not say a word to the Captain. At least, not yet. And now she understood at least partly why Nechayev had ordered her silence. She suddenly felt an immense sense of guilt and the urge to blurt everything out to him.

"Only briefly," he was saying. "But his intelligence and work ethic made an impression upon me."

"I can see that..." To his surprise, she took his hand and squeezed. "Your eulogy is very heartfelt. Thank you for showing it to me."

He felt his pulse quicken, as he returned her grip more tightly than he had intended. Feeling his nerves inexplicably on edge, he dropped her hand and then glanced to the side as several crew members came around the bend, and passed by with a deferential nod. He licked his dry lips, and avoiding Beverly's gaze he tapped at the data pad again. "Beverly...I nearly forgot I needed to show you something else. I obtained this information from Del...given the content, I thought it best to transmit it to your personal terminal rather than give it directly to Mr. Crusher."

She took the pad and studied it quickly. She looked up at him. "So she's safe?"

"That is not clear. Del confirmed her presence in a Ciapathian hospital with her mother, who remains comatose. Assuming that Del is telling the truth, the most we know is that she's alive."

"Would Del have a reason to lie to you?"

"I don't know...but I sense he's telling the truth about this. Certainly he seems to be seeking my support. It seems he has gotten in above his head in his new position."

"He should have listened to you," she said. She handed the tiny device back to him. "Thank you again. I'll share this with Wesley later. You know, you _can_ call him Wesley. It might set him more at ease."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes. He's incredibly intimidated by you, you know." She tried not to laugh at his quizzical expression.

He made a dissatisfied face. "That is certainly not what I intended."

"Nevertheless you tend to have that effect on people. Most people."

He watched her carefully. "But not you. I certainly hope not you."

She looked down at her boots. "Well, I would be lying if I said you didn't have an effect on me. But...it's not intimidation." She watched his gaze soften somewhat. She glanced around. The corridor was still empty, and she noted that one of the viewing areas on the observation deck was free. "Can we go in there for a few minutes?"

He stared at her, trying to gauge her intent, even as he felt they were approaching a familiar line. He hesitated, but finally relented. "Yes."

Once they were inside the observation area, she turned back to face him, and this time her closeness sent a line of heat up his back, which settled uncomfortably in his collar. He tried to take a step back, but she grabbed his hand again. Her fingers were warm and strong, and he allowed himself to take in her scent, which was crisp and faintly lavender. It was not a wise idea, because he felt his body beginning to respond. Trying to think bland thoughts, he tried to pry his fingers from hers, but she tightened her grip. Her gaze was now very complex, and she seemed on the verge of saying something, but something was holding her back.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her lips parted and trembled almost imperceptibly. "Because I want to tell you something...but I can't. Not yet."

That was when he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded warmly, and felt her hand circle around and grip the back of his neck tightly, pulling him closer. Feeling the tingle of electricity on his skin and hearing alarms in his brain again, he pulled away, and took a stumbling step back. "I'm sorry," he said.

She brought her hand up to her mouth. "You don't have to apologize. And you don't have to leave either."

"Yes," he said firmly. "Yes, I do. I have to go and prepare for the ceremony."


End file.
